


Gold Dust Woman

by 5kenx5



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5kenx5/pseuds/5kenx5
Summary: **Non-AU, post C's departure, relatively timeline compliant**But she was twenty, and that meant she was a whole new Camila. One who had more good days than bad, one who wrote her own songs and controlled her own life and didn't fall in love with the wrong people. The toxicity of her past was tucked away in the time capsule of her teenage years – one that would never be opened again.It was all behind her - until she opened her door to guide her drunk neighbor back to the right apartment and suddenly it was all right in front of her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> I only got into 5H after Lauren's collab with Halsey (I apparently live under a rock and didn't know who Lauren Jauregui or 5H was prior to Strangers) so some of this may not be accurate timeline-wise but I really did try my best to do some research here. If something is off with the timeline, just tell me and I'll correct it if I can.
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this even though it's angsty as fuck and I can't write a linear story line to save my life lmfao. Let me know what you think and I will certainly be open to respectful suggestions. Stick with me y'all, I won't let you down.

_Rock on, gold dust woman_  
_Take your silver spoon and dig your grave_  
  
_Heartless challenge_  
_Pick your path and I'll pray_  
  
_Wake up in the morning_  
_See your sunrise loves to go down_  
  
_Lousy lovers pick their prey_  
_But they never cry out loud, cry out_  
  
_Well, did she make you cry,_  
_Make you break down,_  
_Shatter your illusions of love?_  
_And is it over now?_  
_Do you know how?_  
_Pick up the pieces and go home_  
  
_Rock on, ancient queen_  
_Follow those who pale in your shadow_  
  
_Rulers make bad lovers_  
_You better put your kingdom up for sale, up for sale_  
  
_Well, did she make you cry,_  
_Make you break down,_  
_Shatter your illusions of love?_  
_And is it over now?_  
_Do you know how?_  
_Pick up the pieces and go home_  
  
_Well, did she make you cry,_  
_Make you break down,_  
_Shatter your illusions of love?_  
_And now tell me is it over now?_  
_Do you know how?_  
_Pick up the pieces and go home_  
_Go home_  
_Go home_  
  
_Ooh, pale shadow of a woman,_  
_Black widow,_  
_Pale shadow of a dragon,_  
_Dust woman._  
  
_Ooh, pale shadow of a woman,_  
_Black widow,_  
_Ooh, pale shadow, she's a dragon,_  
_Gold dust woman_

 

_~Fleetwood Mac, 1977_

 

* * *

 

 

Twenty felt good.

It felt new; _she_ felt new. The disintegration of all her friendships, the contract binding her like shackles, the venomous group of so-called fans that tore her down to her bones, _Lauren_ – the drama was wrapped up, boxed up, and buried right along with her teenage years.

She was twenty now. It was liberating; the last time she'd felt so free was face to face with Simon Cowell, when he uttered "you are through" and all her dreams suddenly seemed close enough to touch. She had no idea what she was signing up for. It was only five years ago, but it felt like at least half a dozen lifetimes.

She was so young then.

The X-Factor didn't feel real anymore. It felt like a movie with other people and other characters. She didn't feel like the same Camila Cabello who walked across what felt like miles of stage, feeling smaller than she ever had in her life with a panel of judges eyeing her expectantly. The first time she opened her mouth, she thought for sure she'd throw up. But instead, she said "I'm Camila," and she smiled, and she sang without faltering on a single note even though her hands were shaking the entire performance.

She tried to think back to it sometimes, but it felt like the memory belonged to someone else. It stopped feeling like hers around the time she stopped feeling like Lauren's.

Everything _always_ led back to Lauren.

She'd let go of a lot – she didn't still have a stack of Lauren's t shirts and she'd thrown the pictures out long before she'd officially left the band. She wasn't even upset when she stumbled upon the leaked pictures with Lucy. She let it all go once she started writing it down. But she didn't think she'd ever be able to let go of the first memory she had of Lauren. It changed her life more than signing that doomed contract ever did. 

Camila had always believed in love at first sight, but she thought she might've fallen for Lauren before she'd even seen her – she thought she might've fallen for the sound of her voice. She felt her blood run cold and the hair on the back of her neck stand up when Lauren sang. She'd never believed in God more faithfully than she had in that moment, and she couldn't quite figure out why. The air in the room changed and nobody else seemed to notice but it was the moment Lauren sucked Camila in and there was a part of her that still thought only the shell of her made it back out.

Of course, 15-year-old Camila didn't know what that feeling meant, and maybe 20-year-old Camila didn't either, but it didn't matter anymore.

When Lauren first sang, Camila thought she was older. Her voice was too powerful, her pitch was too controlled, her voice didn't crack and it dripped the kind of confidence Camila had only ever dreamed of. She certainly didn't expect a teenager, but then there she was in front of her and she was even more beautiful than her voice, if that was possible. Her hair was dark, and her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were the most amazing things Camila had ever seen. She couldn't comprehend how that voice came out of that mouth because it was all too perfect and all to unfair but then Lauren smiled at her and suddenly Camila felt like she was the only person in the world. She couldn't tear herself away from those fucking  _eyes_ and she felt herself compliment Lauren's shirt before she'd even looked at it.

She was more nervous talking to Lauren than she was up on stage.

But the X-Factor was over, and Lauren was gone, and Camila was _twenty_. She was twenty and finally felt like Camila Cabello again, not the caricature she'd been turned into. 

She had to admit, she wasn't quite ready to be twenty. She could've used a few more months of the teenage years, but twenty came whether she was ready or not and she decided to embrace it.

She couldn't exactly run from the inevitable, even if she did learn from the best.

She was picking at a cupcake left in her fridge from the night before when she first heard it - footsteps approach her door, back away, and shuffle by again. She brushed it off - it was a Friday night after all; her drunk neighbor was probably looking for the right apartment _again -_ and she went back to picking at the cupcake. She wasn't really hungry, but the treat came with memories that made her smile. It was from the night before, when she celebrated her birthday in the studio with Pharell. She didn't even have to lie to herself about having a good time. It was one of the best days she'd had in a while.

They were happening more often – the good days; she felt like she'd been climbing over a mountain and was finally heading back down. It wasn't so tiring just to wake up in the morning. Her anxiety was under control, her depression seemed to be locked up with the rest of her teenage disasters, she'd even gained some weight in all the right places. Life was great, and it sometimes took Camila by surprise because she was so used to pretending, she forgot what the real thing felt like.

But she was  _twenty_ now, and that meant she was a whole new Camila. One who had more good days than bad, one who wrote her own songs and controlled her own life and didn't fall in love with the wrong people. The toxicity of her past was tucked away in the time capsule of her teenage years - one that would never be opened again. 

It was all behind her - until she finally opened the door to guide her drunk neighbor back to the right apartment and suddenly it was all right in front of her. 

***

" _Oh,_ " Camila muttered softly when she saw the tangled mess of dark hair facing the wall opposite to her door. She didn't have to turn around for Camila to know who was there; she'd recognize her backwards, upside down, in the dark, and blind folded. 

"Hi," the other girl said awkwardly, before clearing her throat. Camila suddenly felt very self conscious; She checked her mouth for crumbs from the cupcake and kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Lauren's eyes were as bright as ever, so much so it startled Camila because she'd  _forgotten,_ which bothered her more than she wanted to admit. But they were red too, and at first Camila thought she'd been crying but the smell perforating the hallway told a different story. 

Despite her bloodshot eyes, despite her chapped lips and smeared makeup and tangled mane of hair, Camila's breath still hitched at the sight of her. She chalked it up to just being surprised. 

"What are you doing here, Lauren?" Camila demanded, and her voice came out a little more harshly than she meant it.

"Shit, I didn't think I'd get this far," Lauren admitted. Camila rolled her eyes and waited. 

"It's your birthday," she finally shrugged.  

"That still doesn't answer my question."

Lauren sighed, running her hands through her hair. Camila noticed she'd bitten her nails down to the quick, a habit she thought she'd broken years ago.

Old habits die hard, Camila should know. Lauren had always been her best bad habit. 

"I don't know," she shook her head. "I don't know. I just - I just wanted to tell you happy birthday." Camila had never heard Lauren's voice sound so small. 

"You could've texted."

"You deserve more than some shitty birthday text. You've always deserved more." She mumbled, and her voice was low, raspy. It cracked and Camila didn't know if she was biting back tears or if it was from the smoke she'd been pumping into her lungs. 

"You don't owe me anything, Lauren. I had a great birthday, without you. Goodnight." Camila moved to step back into her apartment, but Lauren grabbed her by the arm. 

"Wait, I have something for you. Then I'll go, I promise." She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. It wasn't wrapped aside from the pink bow tied around it. Lauren kept her fingers on the edge of the box while she spoke. 

"I got this for you when you turned eighteen, but I couldn't...I wasn't ready for you to have it then. I hope it still means something to you now. Goodnight, Camila. I'm glad you had a good birthday." Lauren smiled solemnly and turned to leave. Camila watched her all the way down the hallway, watched her wipe a tear from her cheek and watched her pull a pack of cigarettes out of her jacket pocket as the elevator doors closed. 

She tossed the package on her kitchen counter and tried to convince herself she wasn't going to open it. Not even a full minute later she was untying the bow and she couldn't explain why her fingers were trembling. She opened the box and there was a small white piece of paper laid out inside with her name scrawled across it in Lauren's flawless calligraphy. She set the paper aside and froze at what was underneath. 

She picked up the necklace, brushing her fingertips over the pendant. It was a silver crescent moon with a small moonstone hanging from the tip and a light "-L" carved into the metal on the back. Camila dropped it like it would burn her and hesitantly reached for the piece of paper she'd set aside. 

_I told her about you too, you know._

_Happy Birthday, Camz._

_-Lauren_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camila had always hated the dark, always hated smoke, always hated games, but there it all was right in front of her, wrapped in leather and signed in red lipstick - somehow the embodiment of everything she hated was the only thing she'd ever loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Lauren comes off in a pretty negative light here, but please just bear with me. I'm a Lauren girl through and through, I definitely don't think she's some villain and that's not at all what I am trying to portray. Remember, this is Camila's perspective and she's had her heart broken. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry I cannot write a linear story for the life of me but the next few chapters should (hopefully) be more plot oriented. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and your comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!

_Dammit Lauren._

Camila's chest cracked open as she read and reread the words on the note.  _I told her about you too._ It was so cliche and so stupid but so, _so_ Lauren. She felt kind of like she needed to throw up, and kind of like laughing, and kind of like she just wanted to toss the whole box in the trash and go to bed. But her chest split in two at the acknowledgment and suddenly she was sixteen years old, singing yet another song she wrote about Lauren fucking Jauregui into her Garageband app. She hadn't been able to look at the moon without thinking of Lauren since then. 

Tears pooled along her eyelids and she had to blink a few times before she realized they weren't  _sad_ tears - they were  _angry_ tears. She wasn't completely innocent in the whole situation, she knew that, but Lauren had ripped Camila's heart out and stomped on it so many times it wasn't even the right shape anymore. It didn't fit in her chest and it beat without rhythm, and on the bad nights, she could still feel Lauren's hand wrapped around it, squeezing until she had to go hang her head over a toilet. Lauren, and her  _I love you_ s mixed with  _don't fucking touch me_ s; Lauren and her  _you're my world baby_ s followed with  _this means nothing_ s; Lauren god damn Jauregui and herperpetual cocktails of  _yes_ and  _no_ and  _maybe_  that Camila spent four years wasted on

She was so tired of being the yoyo tied around Lauren's finger, and yeah, maybe she did cut off her circulation, maybe sometimes she waited too long before coming back up, maybe sometimes she even cut the string before  _begging_ to tie another knot, but that didn't give Lauren the right to show up on her doorstep with a necklace and a note Camila would've sold her whole soul for a year ago. 

There were just too many knots in the string for them to keep playing with the same damn yoyo. 

Camila grabbed the necklace in her fist, not bothering to wipe her tears. They burned, like acid, dripping down her cheeks as she stormed outside. She didn't feel self conscious anymore. If anyone could make cartoon shorts, banana socks, swollen eyes and a messy bun look intimidating, it was Camila Cabello. She was too mad to feel inferior next to Lauren.

Lauren was no goddess, no matter how much 15-year-old Camila swore she was. 

_Lauren was not the sun._

" _How fucking dare you, Lauren,"_ Camila yelled, her voice scratchy, to the figure leaning against her car in the dark just outside of the apartment complex. Lauren tilted her head, releasing a long stream of smoke from her nose. She dropped the cigarette on the ground, stepping on it with her boot before taking a few steps forward. She  _hated_ herself for the millisecond of hesitation that came when Lauren's eyes met hers. Camila had always hated the dark, always hated smoke, always hated games, but there it all was right in front of her, wrapped in leather and signed in red lipstick - somehow the embodiment of everything she hated was the only thing she'd ever loved. 

"Camz, what are you-"

" _No._ You don't get to do that anymore. You don't get to show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, you don't get to use that nickname or give me jewelry or tell me happy birthday. And you sure as hell don't get to leave me notes about the fucking moon." Camila was surprised at how steady her voice was, despite how much her body was trembling. Lauren looked surprised too, and maybe because it was the first time Camila had really  _yelled_ at her, or maybe it was because she knew Camila was right. Either way, Camila had said what she needed to say. But she didn't feel finished. 

When it came to Lauren, she  _never_ felt finished. There was a part of her that thought they'd still feel unfinished even as they were both rotting in a grave. 

"I know," Lauren admitted, and her voice was so  _soft;_ it was velvety and gentle and all the things Camila had forgotten Lauren could be. It was easier to hate her when she focused on the fights and the tears and the break-ups that never really felt like break-ups, because how could you break-up when you were never  _really_ together, and how could you break-up when you both knew you'd be wrapped up in the sheets of some high end hotel together within a few weeks. 

"I shouldn't have come here. It's just...this is the first birthday I haven't spent with you since we met. It feels weird. It feels like, _fuck,_ it feels like I can't breathe, Camila, and I just thought, I don't know, maybe we could both use some closure." 

"I think I got my closure when you told me to get the fuck out of your hotel room and never talk to you again the last night of the tour. I don't really care what you need." Camila tossed the necklace at Lauren, and she didn't even try to catch it. Her throat was pulsing and Camila could see her fighting back tears. She didn't exactly regret  _what_ she said, but she did regret  _hurting_ Lauren.

She always regretted hurting Lauren. 

"You know I didn't mean that," Lauren responded through gritted teeth.

"Why? Because you'd said it to me so many times I should've been used to it?" 

Lauren had never looked so small, so timid, so  _un-Lauren._ She let her hair cover her face and she had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling. Despite the leather jacket and the boots and the red lipstick and the eyeliner, she just looked like a frightened kid, lost and just trying to find her way back home. 

"No, because you were fucking _leaving me_  and just had to come throw it in my face that night." Camila could tell from her words that she was trying to be menacing, but her voice was almost a whisper and she just sounded  _broken._

" _God, Lauren!_ Not everything is about you! Besides,  _you_ left  _me_ long before I left the band." 

"As if I could _ever_ leave you, Camila. I know I put you through hell, I  _know that._ But I always came back to you."

"And that's what hurt the most, Lauren. You kept pulling me back in just so you could hurt me again, and I let you. I let you ruin me."

"You seem to be doing alright," Lauren scoffed, almost jealously and Camila absentmindedly wondered if Lauren was doing okay, if she had someone to talk her down on the bad nights, to hold her hair back when she drank too much, to sing her that stupid lullaby  _in Spanish,_ because it "sounded dumb as fuck translated in English." But Camila shook her head; it wasn't her place to worry about Lauren anymore. 

" _Alright?_  You're as blind now as you were five years ago. You haven't changed at all," Camila said bitterly, and Lauren's green eyes lit up like a forest amidst a blazing wildfire. 

"Yeah? I could say the same thing about you- trying to make everything my fault, playing the victim. You aren't a kid anymore, Camila. Grow up." 

"It  _was_ your fault, Lauren! I know I hurt you too, but Jesus, what did you expect? After  _everything_ you put me through?"

"Fucking hell, Camila. I was  _sixteen,_ I was trying to figure things out, okay? I was confused, and frustrated, and all I wanted to do was talk to my best friend about it but I couldn't because _you_ were the reason for it all. You _know_ how much I struggled with everything." 

"And I didn't? I wasn't fifteen and falling for  _my_ bestfriend? I wasn't sixteen and pulled around like a chew toy? I didn't spend four years worshiping you only to realize  _I_ wasn't good enough, but  _Lucy fucking Vives_ was? You can't use being sixteen as an excuse forever Lauren, not when you pulled the same shit when you were seventeen, and eighteen, and nineteen. Not when you're  _twenty years old_ and still showing up at my doorstep. You have to let me go.  _Please."_  Camila was aware of how desperate she sounded, but she couldn't help it. She thought she grew up, thought she moved on, thought being  _twenty_ meant something. But here she was, begging Lauren to let her go because she _still_  couldn't walk away from her.

_Could people be an addiction?_

"If you hate me so much, why are you still out here? Just leave, it's what you're good at."

"I could never hate you," Camila murmured. She wasn't sure she'd actually spoken out loud until Lauren responded and she didn't know  _why_ she let it slip out because she didn't want Lauren to know how little she really had moved on, but it was too late to put the words back in her mouth. 

"You should," and suddenly Lauren was crying again. Maybe it was the weed that was making her more vulnerable, maybe something happened in the 3 months Camila had been out of her life, or maybe Lauren's closet of skeletons had finally burst open and she was drowning in the bones of her mistakes, the ashes of the past she'd burned down.

Maybe it was her turn to choke on the what-ifs and might-have-beens. 

"I would hate me, hell I  _do_ hate me," Lauren continued, "I know we both made mistakes, but it was always my fault. I ruined everything when it came to you, Camz - sorry,  _Camila._ I don't know what you saw in me; I wasn't worth four years of your life."

"No, you weren't." And Camila couldn't even say the words without it tasting like a lie. 

"I really made a mess out of this...Do you regret it? Any of it? It's okay if you do." Lauren ran her hand through her hair nervously, and her eyes were anywhere but on Camila. She didn't sound mad anymore. Just like she needed answers, and maybe that's what she meant by closure. 

Camila thought for a moment, and she could tell Lauren was nervous about her hesitation, but she was patient. She thought back to seeing Lauren in boot camp, to their first performance together when Lauren knew just how to talk her down from her anxiety attack. She thought back to all the times Lauren laughed at her jokes when nobody else had.

She thought about when she was sixteen and shared her first kiss with Lauren, her first kiss  _ever_ , how she leaned in close in the elevator, her palms resting on the handrails on either side of Lauren and Lauren's eyes were _consuming_ her, and Camila's palms were so sweaty she actually  _slipped into Lauren;_ how they both laughed into each other's mouth. It was sloppy and embarrassing, and when Camila pulled away she could feel her cheeks burning. Lauren let her ramble in humiliation for a few moments before she pulled Camila back in with both hands on her waist and kissed her into stupidity. Camila couldn't feel her lips again until the morning. 

She thought about the first time they had sex, Camila's first time at all, and it wasn't Lauren's but that was okay because Camila was secretly glad at least one of them knew what they were doing. They were in a hotel room, and it was late, and the other girls were sleeping because they had a show early in the morning but Camila wanted to see Lauren before bed and Lauren would've waited up forever if she had to to get some alone time with her. Lauren kissed her in the kitchen and Lauren kissed her on the couch and before Camila knew what was happening, she was sitting on Lauren's lap in Lauren's bed with her tongue down Lauren's throat. The air was thicker, their breathing was heavier, and Camila wasn't sure what exactly had changed, but her skin was on  _fire_ and she couldn't get close enough to the girl she had her legs wrapped around. She didn't know what it meant until Lauren had her lips locked into the skin around her throat and suddenly Camila knew  _exactly_ where the night was going. Lauren's hand crawled under her shirt hesitantly, and Camila wanted to say  _yes oh god yes_ but that meant taking her mouth off of Lauren's so instead she shoved her hands right up the other girl's shirt in response and Lauren took it as permission to continue. Camila remembered the way Lauren looked at her that night. She would've drowned in her right then and there if she could. 

She thought about the first time Lauren said I love you. It was a full two years after Camila said it. Lauren was drunk, or high, probably both, when she knocked on Camila's door at 1am - Camila's  _family's_ door, because the girls were all on break and back at home with their families. Her mom opened the door, shocked to see Lauren standing there but she let her inside because Lauren had a bruise under eye and blood caked around her lips and the only word she could manage to get out was Camila's name. Lauren fell into bed with Camila and she kissed her everywhere but her mouth, apologizing through her tears because she fucked some guy at a party and his girlfriend walked in and it wasn't even worth it because she spent the whole night pretending he was Camila but it didn't work. Camila tried to stay mad at her, because it hadn't even been twenty four hours since Lauren told her that she meant nothing to her, but once Lauren whispered 'I love you, I'm in love with you, fuck I love you so much it hurts' into the tear soaked nape of Camila's neck, she didn't really care about anything else. 

She thought about all the times they laid out under the stars with their hands intertwined, about all the times she fell asleep to the sound of Lauren's heartbeat, about all the times they drove until they were out of gas, listening to cheap love songs and kissing at every right light. 

She thought about the time she slipped in the shower with Lauren, and brought the whole shower curtain down, and how Ally busted the door down because of the noise only to find a red-faced Camila and Lauren tangled up in the shower curtain with shampoo still in their hair. Ally admitted she'd known about them since the X-Factor days and Camila had never been so relieved because she hated secrets and this one was suffocating her. 

She thought about the time Lauren wrapped her hands around her waist while she was making breakfast, and she was upset because she wanted to make breakfast in bed for Lauren, but she couldn't stay mad for long because Lauren had her morning breath tickling her ear with "whatcha makin' baby?" just before she placed a sloppy kiss onto Camila's flushed cheeks. Normani announced her presence by clearing her throat and the other two girls jumped so bad Camila elbowed the pan and sent the still-goopey pancake batter splashing onto Lauren. Normani helped her get a bandage on her arm where she burned it and Lauren waited until she was all wrapped up before she even showered off the pancake batter. Normani acknowledged them with a wink and never brought it up again.

She thought about the time her and Lauren both walked in late to an interview, but not late at the same time, late a few minutes apart, by Lauren's insistence, when Lauren had a hickey the size of Texas on her neck and Camila couldn't walk straight and Dinah practically screamed "Camren is real!" at the top of lungs the minute the cameras turned off. Camila had never been so afraid in her life. Not because Dinah knew about them, because Camila would've stood at the top of every skyscraper in New York screaming 'I love Lauren Michelle Jauregui' to any soul in the cosmos that would listen, but she'd learned to fear Lauren's secret like it was one of her own. If Lauren got mad, Camila saw the consequences. But Lauren just looked at Camila and grinned. The weight of the universe fell off Camila's shoulders at the sight of her smile and for the first time, she saw a light at the end of tunnel that was Lauren. Turns out, the tunnel went on into eternity. 

Of course, the bad times played through her mind too. She didn't want to think about the time she kissed Lauren at an after party and Lauren pushed her away with disgust even though no one was looking at them. She didn't want to think about the time she walked in on Lauren making out with Brad fucking Simpson and all Lauren had to say was "shut the door on your way out." She definitely didn't want to think about the time she showed up at Lauren's door with tears spilling down her face and soaking her shirt and Lauren just shut the door and said she was busy. 

She didn't want to think about all the times she stood in front of her bathroom mirror picking out all the reasons Lauren couldn't love her. 

She didn't want to think about the time Lauren burst into her hotel room, slurring her words and screaming at her that she was a slut for fucking Austin Mahone even though she didn't, and Lauren was dating Brad fucking Simpson anyway. Lauren apologized and swore she didn't mean it, swore she was just upset at the thought of Camila being with anyone else and handled it wrong because she was drunk _again_ , but she kept seeing Brad so Camila didn't think it hurt  _that_ much. At least Austin held her hand in public.

She didn't want to think about all the times Lauren lost her shit on Twitter at the fans who saw all the things Camila felt. The way her heart dried up while Lauren denied them made Camila wonder if Lauren really cared about her at all. Sometimes it felt like she was just a warm body that never said no, and Lauren only acted so sweet to keep Camila wrapped around her finger in the first place. She never had the courage to ask; she didn't want to know the answer. 

She certainly didn't want to think about the time they were fighting in the back street behind whatever club Fifth Harmony had appeared in that weekend, and Camila was too exhausted to keep arguing and her voice was too broken to keep yelling and she was way too defeated to stand up for herself so she just let Lauren win and told her she loved her. All Lauren said was "you're too naive," with pity in her voice that crept all the way into Camila's bones. Lauren took a cab and never checked to see if Camila made it home safely, and Camila was glad because it wasn't her home that she went to that night. She didn't even remember his name anymore, but it felt almost like revenge. 

She didn't want to remember all the times Lauren hurt her, but somehow those memories were stronger than anything else. Anything else besides the first time she heard Lauren sing, the first time Lauren smiled at her, the first time Camila believed in magic.

"I'd do it all over again, if I had to."

She was kind of surprised at her own words, and even more surprised that she _meant it,_ but she realized, even four and a half years years and countless heartbreaks later, she'd still let Lauren destroy her. 

"I just regret not loving you right," Lauren said quietly, and for the first time in a long time, Camila truly believed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note here, is there anybody who speaks Spanish that would be willing to translate a few things for me? I can't stand the idea of using Google Translate because it's never accurate, but I'd like to add a few Spanish parts in some of the upcoming chapters so please leave me a comment if you're able and willing. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The faintest, shadow of a smile played across Lauren's lips. Part of Camila thought Lauren liked the idea of fighting again, as twisted as it was. Camila always hated fighting, but Lauren was reckless and angry and so fucking passionate, and so maybe she kind of like the thrill of the fire, and maybe some part of Camila liked that about her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with my disorganized writing. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Enjoy the story!

They'd been standing outside in silence after their confessions, and Camila was glad that Lauren hadn't tried to open it up for discussion - though that was usually Camila's job anyway. Trying to make Lauren talk about her feelings was like trying to convince a shark not to eat you.

She sort of felt obligated to invite Lauren inside, because it had to be at least 1 a.m. and she was starting to get cold and she didn't feel finished yet (maybe Lauren was right - she still  _did_ need closure), but she wasn't ready to let her back in yet. Not in her apartment, and definitely not in her heart.

Lauren seemed to read her mind. 

"Do you want to sit?" She suggested, gesturing to the car they'd both been leaning against. Camila hesitated, avoiding Lauren's eyes because she wanted to make this decision for herself and she'd  _never_ been able to say no to those eyes. 

"We'll probably start arguing again," she admitted, giving Lauren a way out and acknowledging all the unresolved feelings between them. She couldn't promise Lauren that she wouldn't pick another fight, and she'd grown used to expecting arguments from Lauren anyway. But instead of taking the out, the faintest, shadow of a smile played across Lauren's lips. Part of Camila thought Lauren liked the idea of fighting again, as twisted as it was. Camila always hated fighting, but Lauren was reckless and angry and  _so fucking passionate,_ and so maybe she kind of like the thrill of the fire, and maybe some part of Camila liked that about her too. 

"It's better than watching you walk away again," she finally said as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the door. 

Camila felt her cheeks blush at that, and she was a little upset that Lauren thought she had the right to say that to her, but she still climbed inside the passenger seat with her heart thumping like she was sneaking out for the first time all over again, like she was sixteen and slipping into Clara Jauregui's car before Lauren really even had her license.  _I have my permit, so it's close enough,_ she remembered Lauren giggling into her lips as she put the car in reverse and they chased the moon until sunrise. 

Lauren fiddled with the radio for a moment, finally settling on some mix station that neither of them really listened to, but it was just for background noise anyway. 

"Are you ever going to forgive me for leaving?" Camila asked timidly. She wanted to sound angry, but she wasn't, not really. Not about that. About  _so many other things,_ but not about that. 

"I already have, Camz -  _sorry."_  She cringed. Camila's full name just felt awkward in her mouth. It didn't taste right. 

"It's okay," Camila whispered, because she agreed. She hated how much her name didn't sound like her own when it came from Lauren's mouth. 

"I was mad, I think I'm  _still_ mad, because it felt  _personal._ I don't know. No matter what I did, no matter how much I hurt you, how many times I broke you, you were  _there._ I guess I just forgot that a world without you could exist anymore." 

"I would've been there forever, if you let me, Laur. But you can't blame me for finally leaving after all the years you spent telling me to go."

"I don't blame you, not anymore. Honestly, Camz," (she didn't correct herself and Camila let it slide), "I'm proud of you for leaving."

Camila didn't expect that. She didn't expect that  _at all._

"You should've done it years ago. You should've left before I had the chance to ruin everything." She was shaking her head now, and Camila wasn't sure what to do because a part of her agreed with Lauren, but a bigger part of her wouldn't have given up a single memory, even the bad ones, no matter what. 

"How come I ruin everything I touch?" Lauren asked, and her voice was different. She wasn't crying, she wasn't even shaking. She was stoic and still, her green eyes, for the first time Camila had ever seen, _weren't_  deeper than the ocean. They were shallow and her voice was  _empty._ It gave Camila goosebumps, because where was her fight? Did the fire in her finally burn out? 

She suddenly felt much colder. 

But she didn't say anything. She just turned her head to the moon, and silently begged her to make sure  _this_  Lauren was only temporary, and  _her_ Lauren would come home. 

Lauren finally pulled out a little bag from the center console of her car. At first, Camila thought it was a bag of cigarettes which didn't make any kind of sense because she knew Lauren had a pack of cigarettes in her jacket pocket, and who the fuck kept a  _bag_ of cigarettes in their car anyway, but then she mentally kicked herself for being so stupid. 

_Oh._

"You mind if I...?" Lauren trailed off, and  _god_ Camila hated smoking. She hated the way it seeped into her hair and her clothes and how it always made her cough even when she wasn't the one breathing it in. But this was Lauren's car and her eyes were pleading, so she just shrugged. She wished Lauren wouldn't, she missed how smooth her voice used to be and she hated how the red drowned out the sparkling emeralds in her eyes, but she didn't get an opinion on Lauren's life choices anymore. 

In all honesty, she didn't think she ever really did. 

Lauren wrapped her lips around the joint and Camila watched her breathe in as she put her lighter to it. Her eyes closed and her body relaxed as the smoke filled her lungs and Camila couldn't take her eyes off of her.  _God she hated smoke; God Lauren was beautiful._

Lauren raised her eyebrows and offered the joint forward, probably in response to Camila staring, but she shook her head no a little harder than necessary and Lauren just smiled and nodded before taking another drag. 

Camila had only ever smoked pot once before, smoked  _anything_ once before, really. Because Lauren never let her touch a cigarette.  _It'll ruin your beautiful voice,_ Lauren had warned her once, when Camila plucked it from her fingers. There was a ring of Lauren's lipstick looped around it and Camila wanted to smack her in the head because what about  _her_ beautiful voice _,_ but there was no sense arguing. She never tried to smoke a cigarette again because somewhere, in the back of her mind, she couldn't stand the thought of Lauren being disappointed in her. 

But she had smoked weed once. 

She was seventeen and they were at a party - she wasn't sure which one - and Lauren was practically drooling over a boy sucking on a blunt on the other side of the yard. 

" _Isn't he so cool, Camz? Like, look at that,"_ Lauren had gushed, just as he let the smoke fall from his lips in various shapes. Camila thought he looked absolutely ridiculous, showing off like that, but she just smiled and agreed, because Lauren definitely knew more about that kind of stuff than she did. 

Camila always admired Lauren's confidence, her willingness to just  _go for it_ when she wanted something. But she didn't like the way she felt when Lauren approached the boy and asked him for a hit. He just smiled and passed the blunt to her, and she stuck it in her mouth like she didn't even care it was still wet from his. Camila thought it was Lauren's first time smoking, but she breathed it in like a pro and Camila wondered what other kinds of firsts Lauren had that she didn't tell her about. 

" _How bout you, sweetheart?"_ The boy asked, holding the blunt out to Camila after Lauren handed it back. A spark of jealousy flashed in Lauren's eyes and for a split second, Camila's heart swelled. 

Then she realized it was probably because he called Camila sweetheart instead of her. 

" _No, she doesn't smoke,"_ Lauren had immediately answered, her voice a little more protective than usual, and in a different situation, Camila definitely would've felt her stomach flip at the sound, but it only made her mad. 

"She _can speak for herself,"_ Camila had spit out, reaching for the blunt. Lauren looked uncomfortable and kind of angry and a little sad, so Camila decided it was worth it. 

She wrapped her lips around it, and it was gross because  _yeah, it was still wet,_ but she convinced herself it was mostly from Lauren's mouth, so she forgot all about the boy even as he was whispering instructions in her ear on how to do it. 

Her immediate thought was  _why the fuck do people do this for fun?_ It burned and she coughed for almost a full minute while Lauren just laughed at her. It made her mad. 

She knew she didn't look 'cool' like he had, couldn't blow smoke out into shapes or really even take a full hit without coughing, but the more she sucked on it, the more Lauren's eyes burned, so she didn't even hesitate when the boy tossed out the roach and pulled out a bong. Camila didn't notice that Lauren never took another hit and kept her eyes glued on her like she was the only thing in the universe for the rest of the party. 

A few hours later, she was upstairs in the bathroom, the sound of her own vomiting echoing into her ears while Lauren held her hair up (because  _of course_ it was the one day they  _both_ didn't have a pony tail on their wrists). Between each heave of stomach acid into the toilet bowl, Camila thought about the way Lauren reacted downstairs. How Camila said she didn't feel good and Lauren immediately jumped up, and the boy offered to find Ally because she was the _responsible_ one, and Lauren had practically  _growled_ "no, I got her" at him.

Camila felt something in stomach at the sound of that. Maybe it was pride, because  _Lauren_ _had her_. She realized it was only nausea when she threw up on the couch. 

She apologized profusely for ruining Lauren's night. 

_Blech._

"I'm so sorry."

_Blech._

_"_ I'm sorry, Lo, I-"

_Blech._

_"_ I'm sorry I ruined your night." 

"You didn't ruin anything, babe," Lauren had shushed her, rubbing Camila's neck and kissing the top of her head. 

Lauren took her home after that, and Camila fell asleep in the car with Lauren's fingers intertwined with her own. She remembered falling asleep, again, in Lauren's bed; falling asleep to the sound of Lauren's shower because Camila had thrown up on her a little bit and Lauren hadn't even mentioned it; falling asleep again when Lauren crawled in bed with her and whispered in her ear as Camila moved her head onto Lauren's chest. 

" _You couldn't ruin my night if you tried, baby girl. Not when I still get to end it like this._ " 

But the next morning, Lauren had teased Camila in front of everyone about how she ruined the party. 

"Can I tell you something?" Lauren finally asked, pulling Camila out of her memory just as she finished off the last of the joint. She tossed it out the window and Camila was angry for a moment because this was  _her_ apartment and Lauren couldn't just throw shit out the window like that when there was a trash can and an ashtray 10 feet away from where she was parked, but she felt herself nod instead. 

"Part of the reason I struggled so hard with my sexuality, was because of you. And I think I never let go of that. I think it was part of the reason I sometimes treated you the way I did."

"What the hell are you talking about, Lauren?" She didn't mean to sound so indignant, but she couldn't help but be a bit offended at the accusation. If anything, Lauren was the one who had trouble when Camila finally decided on a label for herself.  

"You told me to stop lying to myself when I was dating Luis, and you made fun of me with Brad when he dumped me. Do you even remember what you said?"

Camila didn't remember, and from the tone of Lauren's voice, she didn't want to. She shook her head slowly. 

"His band, when they each said they had their go at me, you said -" And then Camila remembered.

" _Haven't we all,_ " she cut her off, staring at the dash in front of her. 

"It felt like a punch to the gut, Camila. I can still hear you saying it like it was yesterday. I was trying so hard to understand myself, and all I wanted to do was talk to my best friend about it, but I couldn't because every time I so much as breathed in the same direction as a boy, you acted like I was just some cheap whore trying to get it wherever I could."

 _"_ You called me a slut when I dated Austin," Camila reminded her, which was  _completely_ not the point and she  _knew that_ but she said it anyway, because she was sick of the double standard Lauren always had over her. 

"Are you fucking serious right now? That's not the _point_ , Camila. It's not about some stupid slur thrown around by jealous teenagers; you completely invalidated me." 

"Jesus, Lo. I didn't care that you liked Luis or you liked Brad or you liked any of the other boys you talked about just because they were  _boys;_ I cared because they weren't  _me._ All I wanted was for you to hold my hand like that in public, to kiss me like that in front of our friends. All I wanted was for you to tell me you loved me when we both had our clothes on. I wanted to be your first choice." 

"I was trying to figure things out," Lauren repeated, the same excuse she'd been using for four years. She didn't even sound like she meant it anymore; it seemed like it just slipped from her mouth out of habit.

"I don't know how you expected me to listen to you gush about all the other people giving you everything you wouldn't let _me_ give. And you weren't  _fair_ about it either, Lauren. You've always had this terrible double standard when it came to us. Like _I_ was  _yours,_ but  _you_ weren't  _mine._ You dated whoever you wanted without even  _telling_ me, but whenever I did, you acted like I was just going out of my way to hurt you."

"Weren't you?" Lauren said incredulously, which, again,  _was not the fucking point,_ but Camila's cheeks still burned because she was kind of right. 

 She dated the guys she did out of spite because if Lauren could have a boyfriend, she could too. And maybe that's why she had such a hard time believing it was  _real_ when Lauren dated a boy. Because for Camila, it never was. 

" _Not_ the point."

“It kind of is, though. You don’t know what it’s like to have your best friend tell you that your _real_ feelings aren't real.”

Camila laughed. She actually laughed, because _what the fuck, Lauren?_  

“Did you just, like, _forget,_ all the times I told you I loved you and you just told me I was being naïve? Do you not remember actually  _yelling at me_ the first time I told you I loved you? I mean, honestly, Laur, you should probably get your head checked or something if you don’t remember all the times you told me I meant nothing and we meant nothing and that I was stupid for ever thinking otherwise.”

Lauren had tears in her eyes, and her cheeks were sort of red, and she looked ready to explode. She raised her hand up, and for some reason, Camila _flinched_ because she thought Lauren was actually going to hit her, not that Lauren ever had but she just looked _so angry and so sad._

Instead, she grabbed Camila’s face, her fingers dipping into her hair and her thumb brushing over her lips.

Then Camila thought Lauren was going to kiss her.

She prayed that she wouldn’t, but she didn’t move her head either.

“You were _everything to me,_ Camz. I’m sorry that I couldn’t admit it when it mattered.”

And then Camila kind of wanted to kiss her.

Kind of.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But then Lauren whimpered Camz into her mouth, fucking whimpered, and the next thing Camila knew she was kissing Lauren like her life depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what happened this chapter. It's really short but I had two finals today so shit happens. Let the awkward car sex commence.
> 
> And as always, your comments mean everything to me. Thank you so much for reading. An author would be nothing without an audience.

Lauren’s hand was cold against her cheek - _why was she so cold? Lauren had always been so warm -_ but suddenly she was pulling away and letting her head fall into the steering wheel, apologizing in broken whispers. Camila was frozen, not just because it felt like the air had just turned to _ice_ in Lauren’s car,  but because she honestly didn’t know if she wanted to comfort the other girl. She didn’t exactly _want_ Lauren to be hurting, but after so many years of the same damn scene, wiping Lauren’s tears and singing Lauren to sleep and _loving_ Lauren until she was ready to love herself, Camila wasn’t sure she wanted to stick to the script anymore.

She put so much effort into loving Lauren, she never bothered learning how to love herself.

But she was _twenty_ now and she was finally learning, finally taking baby steps and overcoming that whisper in the back of her mind that put her in the hospital more than once and it felt _so good._ Somehow, the idea of comforting Lauren felt pretty much like tossing a green keytag into oblivion and _dammit_ she worked hard for that 60 days clean (75, but who was counting).

She couldn’t help but wonder exactly when she started thinking of Lauren like she was a drug.

Maybe it was the first time she met her.

Maybe it was the first time she kissed her.

Maybe it wasn’t until she realized she’d still let Lauren crawl into her bed at night, even after she stumbled in smelling like overpriced cologne with hickeys on her neck that Camila didn’t put there.

Or maybe it wasn’t until Camila tried to leave and finally understood what a withdrawal felt like

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you back then,” Lauren continued, still hiding her face in the steering wheel. It was dark but Camila could still see Lauren’s outline and she ached to just reach out and touch her but she wasn’t sure she was ready for a relapse.

“I”m sorry I let it get this bad, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, _god I’m sorry -”_

 _“Lauren,”_ Camila tried, but it came out like a whisper and she didn’t _mean_ it to, she meant to sound strong and confident and reassuring, but watching Lauren fall apart in front of her was just too much to handle. Lauren just kept repeating herself, tapping her head against the steering wheel and gripping it so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Camila’s arms felt heavy and her chest felt full because she _knew_ how much it hurt to ruin everything, how much it hurt when your world burned down from the fire you ignited. She spent 3 months wishing Lauren would finally own up to what happened, but it didn’t feel like she thought it would to see Lauren like _that._

So she reached out, slowly, just to touch her shoulder in the most purposefully _platonic_ way she could think of, but the second Lauren turned her eyes up at her, she remembered why she’d never really been able to be completely platonic with Lauren in the first place.

When her body moved, she was honestly just as surprised as Lauren was. She pulled herself over the center console and positioned herself over Lauren’s lap, taking the other girl’s face in her hands and brushing the pads of her thumbs against Lauren’s fluttering eyelashes. They were wet, and leaving streaks of mascara on her skin, but she hardly noticed.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,  it’s okay, it’s okay,” she repeated, over and over, kissing the tears spilling down Lauren’s cheeks and she didn’t know how long she did it, but eventually she realized Lauren wasn’t crying anymore. Just holding her so tight she struggled to find her breath.

Or maybe that was because Lauren was just looking at her, the way only Lauren could.

She had her knees pushing tight against both sides of Lauren’s hips and she had Lauren’s hair wrapped in knots around her fingers, and Lauren was just looking up at her like she was made of gold, like she was the sun, looking at Camila the way Camila spent four years looking at her.

Lauren didn't dare move. Not her hands, not her eyes. She kept them glued to Camila’s own like  she’d break the moment if she so much as blinked. Camila could’ve swore she was holding her breath.

She looked so _fragile,_ and Camila thought maybe she wanted to shatter her.

So she did.

She kissed her slow at first, soft, so soft she wasn’t sure if she’d really even touched her. It almost felt like a memory.

But then Lauren whimpered _Camz_ into her mouth, fucking _whimpered,_ and the next thing Camila knew she was kissing Lauren like her life depended on it.

_Definitely a relapse._

She pushed her tongue into Lauren’s mouth, dragged it along her lips and let it flutter across Lauren’s own tongue until she finally felt used to her mouth again.

Her lips were chapped and wet and kind of salty from the tears. She tasted like smoke, and a little bit like cherries, but mostly like heartbreak.

Camila captured Lauren’s bottom lip in her mouth and she bit down so hard she felt Lauren’s whole body go rigid, felt a gasp escape from Lauren’s throat, and she quickly pushed their lips together again so she could swallow the sound.

Now Lauren tasted like blood.

Lauren’s hands were hesitant, Camila could tell because they pretty much just stayed firm against her hips, but she didn’t care because she’d moved down from Lauren’s mouth and had her teeth latched around a piece of skin under her jaw and it was just so _soft._ When Lauren’s fingernails dug into the skin around her hips, she bit down even harder, and she let her tongue paint a lazy shape around the bruise she could already feel forming.

Lauren shuddered at the contact.

It wasn’t until Camila started grinding her own hips against Lauren’s that she finally gave in and let her hands wander. She was still hesitant, like she wasn’t sure what they were doing (wasn’t it obvious?), like she wasn’t sure what she was _allowed_ to do anymore.

She let her fingers dance up Camila’s sides under her pajama shirt, tracing each one of her ribs like she was trying to memorize her body all over again. As if it was something she’d actually be able to forget. She finally settled on Camila’s thighs and circled her fingertips across the exposed skin until Camila abruptly stopped kissing her.

Camila avoided Lauren’s eyes on purpose, those damn eyes that got her into this mess in the first place, and dragged Lauren’s top over her shoulders. She didn’t even skip a beat before she averted her attention down and started fiddling with the button of Lauren’s pants. She didn’t know why she was in such a rush.

Maybe it was because she always felt like Lauren was just a second away from leaving.

“You know we shouldn't,” Lauren warned, using one hand to push Camila’s face up to meet hers, but her other hand was too far up Camila’s thigh to mean it.

“No, we really shouldn’t,” Camila agreed, jerking away from Lauren’s grasp and popping the button in one swoop.

So basically, they made about as much progress with that conversation as they ever had.

Lauren tried to pull Camila’s shirt off too, but Camila just smacked her hand away while she trailed sloppy, open mouthed kisses down Lauren’s throat, and, well, Lauren wasn’t exactly in a position to complain so she didn’t try again. She just closed her eyes and held on to Camila wherever she could.

And Camila shattered her.

She shattered her, and then she shattered her again, and then she got out of the car without another word before Lauren had even put her shirt back on.

She also watched Lauren’s car from her apartment window for twenty minutes before Lauren finally drove away, but Lauren didn’t know that.

For the first time in months, she couldn’t stand the idea of going to bed alone. She knew she was the one who ran off downstairs, but she couldn’t deny that a part of her still hoped Lauren might finally chase her.

_Those damn green eyes were more dangerous than heroin._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camila went to bed with the seeds of regret stitching up the holes in her heart, because this time she proved Lauren right - this time she did walk away. This time, Lauren was the one who had to find her clothes in the dark, without so much as the ghost of goodbye to guide her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a few days - I've been busy. Another short-ish chapter but the next one should make up for it. I hope you guys are enjoying the story and thank you so much for comments/kudos/just reading my word vomit in general. Enjoy!

Camila let the stream of hot water splash against her skin until it blistered, until the steam in the bathroom was so thick it filled her lungs and her shower started sputtering out a flood of ice that smacked against the raw nerve endings on her back like a reminder her she could still feel something. She had her hands wrapped around the dial while she relived it, over and over and over. She couldn't even blink without seeing Lauren's flushed cheeks sparkling like fucking diamonds in the moonlight. 

She turned the dial; the water spit out as her and it prickled her skin but she could still feel Lauren's weight under her hips.

She turned the dial a little more, and her body jolted a bit but her mind was still drowning. 

_She kissed her._

_Camila kissed her until her lips were bruised and her tongue was sore._

She turned the dial. 

_She pulled off her shirt and she popped open her jeans and she ripped off her bra so forcibly she felt her fingernails sculpt a pattern into Lauren's skin._

She turned the dial. 

_She bit at her throat and she sucked at her collar bone and she felt the skin break under teeth, felt it swell until she could taste the bruise. Lauren let her mark her._

She turned the dial. 

_She had one hand slipped down the front of Lauren's underwear, the other tangled in her hair in a fist. They moved in rhythm, Lauren moaning out the bass line while Camila used her lips to make the treble, teeth knocking together like the beat of a drum in the whirlwind of a crescendo - making music like they always had._

_A final reprise,_ Camila thought as she pushed the dial until it wouldn't go any further, the hot water lapping at her while she gritted her teeth and tried to forget the way Lauren had looked at her when their duet finally reached a coda. She had drops of sunrise spilling from her eyes _,_ and Camila had to escape before she started feeling like the world revolved around Lauren all over again. 

Even as her skin twitched in the water, she just felt numb. Sure, her throat felt raw and her head felt heavy, her skin somehow felt frozen  _and_ on fire and she was pretty sure her thoughts would crack her open and spill out at any second, but underneath it all, she just felt  _numb._

She didn't even touch the soap, never bothered reaching for the shampoo, she just let the water rain down on her in hopes that maybe she could burn away the memory. 

She still smelled smoke in every breath; she still felt Lauren trembling under her fingertips; she still had the taste of her lipstick painted on her tongue. She couldn’t get rid of her.

The shower head abruptly started spilling out ice and Camila had no idea how long it had been, but she finally shut the water off when she realized it would take more than a hot shower to wash away her guilt.

Camila went to bed with the seeds of regret stitching up the holes in her heart, because this time she proved Lauren right - this time she did walk away. This time, Lauren was the one who had to find her clothes in the dark, without so much as the ghost of goodbye to guide her home.

Twenty wasn’t off to such a good start after all. 

***

Lauren texted her the next morning, and Camila was grateful that she didn’t just _show up_ out of nowhere again - she really was - but she still couldn’t find the willpower to reply.

_Can we talk? Please?_

And she knew Lauren was staring at her phone, waiting for the _Read at 8:26am_ notification to pop up across her screen, waiting for the typing bubble to let her know Camila was acknowledging her - waiting for the reply that Camila typed out in at least 12 different variations but never sent. Her phone vibrated in her hand just as her fingers crept dangerously close to the send button, and she took the incoming call from Roger as a sign from God. She answered on the second ring and never texted Lauren back.

In hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have taken a scheduled phone call as a sign of fate, because when she accidentally bumped into Lauren at the studio a few weeks later, it literally could not have gone any worse.

They were finishing up the recording for her song - her first _solo_ song - and even though she wrote it in the midst of a complete and utter heartbreak, she just felt _giddy._ Her dreams were coming true, how could she not? But halfway through the session she had to excuse herself for a bathroom break and, well, saying it went downhill from there would’ve been the understatement of a lifetime.

She ran into Lauren - like, physically _collided_ with her - just outside the bathroom door.

“Sorry.” The words spilled from her lips weightlessly the moment she felt a body come into contact with hers. It wasn’t until Lauren scoffed that Camila even registered _whose_ body it was that had stopped her.

The bile in her stomach bubbled up into her throat as soon as it clicked.

She forgot every word she’d ever learned the second Lauren’s name settled into her brain, which kind of pissed her off because she knew _two languages_ and somehow couldn’t think of a single word in English _or_ Spanish - she just threw up an assortments of _uh_ s and _um_ s until her chest collapsed. Lauren opened her mouth to say something, but Camila never got the chance to hear it. She pushed past Lauren and into the bathroom and stood with her hands on either side of the sink while her reflection in the mirror stared her down in confusion.

_There's no way this is happening right now,_ Camila thought, as she first panic attack she'd had in years wrapped its arms around her like an old friend. 

She watched her chest heave in the mirror, she watched the tears leak slowly from the corners of her eyes and watched her body shiver. She even heard her scattered breath echoing through the bathroom. But she didn’t _feel i_ t. She was watching her reflection dive face first into a battle with something she thought she'd already beaten, and she didn’t even know what to do because she couldn’t fucking _feel_ anything.

She was vaguely aware of Lauren on the other side of the door, listening to her fall apart for _no reason at all,_ and the fact that Lauren was _there_ and could _hear_ her suffocating herself with her own thoughts just made her lungs forget how to work even more.

Because five minutes ago she was singing all the things she wanted to ask Lauren if she was ever given the chance, and the universe delivered Lauren right to her not once but  _twice,_  and all she could do was rip herself apart at the seams right in front of the girl who once sewed her back together. 

She wasn't even entirely sure what she was so worked up about, but anxiety was funny that way. It tended to creep up when you weren't expecting it and no amount of logic could talk it back down. She couldn't  _breathe_ in the little bathroom and she wanted to just run outside and let her fresh air save her but Lauren was still outside the door and the fact that she could just  _feel_ that made her body shake even more. 

"Camila?" Lauren asked tentatively. Camila didn't respond, and she definitely didn't let her inside. 

She managed to slide her back down the door and somehow she _knew_ Lauren was sitting the same way on the other side of the door. She could’ve been imagining it, but she swore Lauren was breathing a lot louder than necessary, breathing deliberately and purposefully and at just the right rhythm for Camila to latch onto until her body stopped vibrating.

She slipped her fingers under the crack at the bottom of the door and Camila allowed herself to place her hand against them, just until her body remembered how to function again.

But she didn’t move until the soft tap of Lauren's footsteps had been swallowed down the hallway.

They didn’t finish the song that day; Camila went back to her apartment without even telling Roger she was leaving and spent the rest of the night on the phone with her mom asking why she ever had to turn _twenty._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're afraid that you're still in love with her, after everything you've been through?" Dinah asked.
> 
> “No,” Camila shook her head, her voice seeming to dissolve in her mouth as she breathed out her words in a throaty whisper.
> 
> “I'm afraid that after everything we’ve been through, maybe I’m not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terrible at replying to comments, but thanks for the feedback; I really appreciate everything you guys have to say. This chapter is mostly dialogue, like a scary amount of dialogue. I don't know why. It just sort of happened. I'm also really unsure of how I wrote Dinah so I'm sorry if her characterization doesn't meet your expectations. I'm so new to this fandom I'm really struggling to keep these characters realistic. I've watched so many interviews my head hurts hahaha. So please let me know how I'm doing so I know what to improve! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you all enjoy! (:

Camila was sick of the interviews. She didn’t mean to be ungrateful, she was glad people were listening to her music, connecting with it, but she was so sick of dodging the same question every time it came up. Ever since  _I Have Questions_  was released, every interview inevitably led up to the same thing.

_Who is this song about?_

She would smile and laugh, attempt to gracefully skirt around the question, bite her tongue when they pushed to hard. She wasn’t allowed to tell them even if she wanted to, but frankly it wasn’t anybody’s business anyway.  _Just enjoy the damn music,_ she thought, every time a new interviewer would press her on the subject. And then she’d immediately feel guilty, because she remembered being fifteen and analyzing every line of every One Direction song for an insight into their lives. She’d been on the other side and she knew what it was like, but  _Jesus_ it was exhausting when the whole world thought they were entitled to your most personal thoughts.

The song had been out for exactly three days when her phone lit up with a name she wasn’t sure she’d ever see again.

**_[1:23 P.M]_  ** _. Dinah: Can we talk?_

**_[1:36 P.M.]_ ** _Camila: About what?_

**_[1:37 P.M.]_ ** _Dinah: Just meet me._

She sent a location with the following message, not leaving Camila with much room to argue. She knew she’d have to see the other girls eventually, so starting with Dinah, the  _least_ likely to hate her, was probably a good idea. Test the waters, so to speak.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Her palms were sticky when she opened the door to the coffee shop her GPS had led her to and her heart was thumping so hard in her chest she thought everyone else could hear it. She didn’t know exactly why she was so nervous, it was just  _Dinah,_ but she honestly had no idea what to expect.

Of all the scenarios she ran in her head, she definitely did  _not_ plan for Dinah to sneak up from behind and pull her into a hug so tight she could’ve sworn she felt a rib crack.

“I’ve missed you, Chancho,” she felt Dinah say into her hair.

“ _Can’t. Breathe.”_

“Sorry,” Dinah laughed, pulling away, “it’s just good to see you.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Camila questioned, eyebrows drawn in uncertainty.

“Oh, I’m definitely mad,” she nodded enthusiastically, taking Camila’s hand to lead her to their seat, “just not for the reasons you think.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, we could go in circles all day about you leaving and who’s to blame for all this drama, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. I haven’t seen you in months and I don’t want to argue. It’s in the past.”

“Then what are you mad about?” Camila asked cautiously as she slid into the booth.

“I heard your song.”

Camila waited for her to elaborate.

“I know it wasn’t about me, at least, I think it probably wasn’t -” she began, but Camila cut her off.

“You know who it’s about,” she said timidly. Dinah nodded.

“I know, but I mean, it  _could_ be about me. I wasn’t there for you, Mila, and I’m sorry for that. But you never  _talked_ to me. I didn’t know what you were going through, or how much you were hurting. You said you were fine…”

“I was fine,” Camila defended weakly.

“No, you weren’t. If you were fine, you wouldn’t have left the way you did.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about that?”

“I don’t,” Dinah sighed, shaking her head, “I just mean, I guess I’m mad that you didn’t let us in, didn’t let us help you. I’m mad that somewhere along the way you stopped thinking of us as your friends.”

“I didn’t mean to, Dinah, but can you blame me? By the end, Mani would barely speak to me, Ally could hardly look at me, Lauren and I couldn’t even be in the same room together without one of us yelling. We  _weren’t_ friends. Even you were distant.”

“We were  _hurt,_ Camila. You said a lot of stupid shit. That didn’t mean we didn’t love you. But you just…you retreated into yourself and  _gave up._ On us, and everything we built.”

“I was  _nineteen,_ Dinah. I’m too young to hurt like that. I was killing myself over Lauren and I had  _no one._ She had all of you and I was _alone._ It made me realize that I didn’t know who I was outside of the group – outside of Lauren. I needed to find myself.”

“You gotta grow up, Mila,” Dinah started, her voice gentle, “you can’t just keep blaming all of your problems on Lauren. You messed up, and couldn’t deal with the consequences. We weren’t there for you because you wouldn’t  _talk_ to us. We were hurt, and angry, but we would’ve put that aside if we knew how much you were struggling, if you  _told us._  But you didn’t. You just  _left_.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about this?”

“I don’t want to argue, Mila, I don’t,” Dinah assured her, her voice surprisingly calm. She didn’t sound angry at all. “I just want to understand what happened.”

“I was scared,” Camila admitted, her voice small.

“Of what? That we wouldn’t forgive you? You know we would’ve.”

Camila shook her head.

“Fine. Then what were you so afraid of?”

 _“Myself_ ,” Camila let out an exasperated breath. “I hated myself, Dinah. Like, really  _hated_ myself. For everything I said about you guys, everything I ruined. For falling in love with the one person I shouldn't have; for never being good enough for her. For being pathetic enough to let her break my heart so many times, and not even  _wanting_ to give a chance to all the people I knew never would." Camila had tears glistening in her eyes that she refused to let fall, but they seemed to have a mind of their own. 

"Honestly, I hated myself  _for_ hating myself," she added, her voice much quieter, "because I had everything I'd ever dreamed of, and I still wasn't happy. I didn't want to walk out on you guys, I really didn't, but I just...I couldn't keep living like that. I was so afraid of what I might do if I kept thinking that way. I just needed to get away and discover  _me,_ as an individual. I needed to learn how to love  _me,_ but I did it all wrong and now everyone hates me."

"We don’t hate you, Mila,” Dinah sighed. “We were all hurt, and yeah, you could’ve handled it a lot better. But we never hated you. Ally even gave us a whole speech about the ‘power of forgiveness,’” she laughed lightly, taking Camila’s hands. Camila felt herself smile at the thought of Ally just being  _Ally._

Dinah took her smile as a sign and continued to reassure her. 

“Mani doesn’t really talk about it anymore, but I know she misses you. She still has that picture of you two in her mirror. You know the one, from her nineteenth birthday? It’s still there." 

Camila knew the one. She felt the tears continue to fall lightly from her cheeks, but somehow, they didn't feel as weighted. Her sad tears had morphed into something almost hopeful. 

“And Ally, you know how Ally is. She can’t hold a grudge to save her life. I've even caught her listening to your songs before, when she knows Lauren won't be around. I think somewhere deep down, she's really rooting for you.”

Camila’s throat burned, but she just squeezed Dinah's hands more tightly, thankful for such a great friend.

“Lauren probably handled it the worst, but I think you know that. She refuses to talk about it, even more so in the last few weeks, but she still spends almost every night sleeping in that shirt from the 1975 concert you guys went to. It's so faded now but I swear it's the only thing she'll wear to bed. It’s kind of gross, actually,” Dinah joked, and Camila smiled even though her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. 

"I don't think there's anything you could ever do to make that girl stop loving you. I feel bad for her, really. She couldn't hate you if she tried," Dinah attempted to reassure her further, but it just made Camila's hands get clammy and her mouth go dry. She wasn't sure how true that was after everything that had happened on her birthday.

“Has she heard it? My song, I mean.” Camila asked, attempting to change the direction of the conversation. 

“I don’t know,” Dinah said truthfully, “if she has, she hasn’t said anything.  If I know Lauren at all though, she listened to it as soon as it dropped and she’s probably beating herself up over it now.”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.”

“Lauren’s a big girl, she can handle herself. You should talk to her though. Figure out where you stand, or at the very least, get some closure.

There it was again. That word.  _Closure._

“I can’t see her,” Camila shook her head, breaking her eyes away from Dinah’s.

“Why?”

"I don't want to know how I feel."

"You're afraid that you're still in love with her, after everything you've been through?" Dinah asked.

“No,” Camila shook her head, her voice seeming to dissolve in her mouth as she breathed out her words in a throaty whisper.

“I'm afraid that after everything we’ve been through, maybe I’m not.”

“What?” Dinah choked out, her face blank, like she didn’t register a single word Camila had said. Like she was somehow incapable of understanding the possibility of Camila  _not_ loving Lauren.

Camila understood; she'd definitely been there before. 

“I don’t know. It's...different," she started, hoping Dinah would understand without her needing to spell it out. Of course, Dinah just tilted her head to the side, clueless. 

"I mean, when I was fifteen, I thought the entire universe was created just for her. She felt like magic…” Camila started, her cheeks burning but the words seemed to tumble out of her mouth before she could really stop herself. She’d always been a rambler.

“It didn’t even feel like she was human. Every time I looked at her, I saw a goddess, and I just…I  _worshipped_  her.”

“Oh, believe me, Mila, I remember. You’re probably why she’s so cocky now,” Dinah interjected lightheartedly. Camila hardly heard her, too busy sorting through her thoughts out loud like she so often did when Dinah prodded at her.

Once she got started, there was no stopping the rambling. 

“And then when I was sixteen, I kissed her in that stupid elevator and suddenly even  _goddess_ was an understatement. At seventeen, I gave her the one thing I still had left to give, and for the first time in my life I had a dream outside of music. All I wanted was her. I didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t even care about myself. I just wanted her.”

Dinah’s eyes dropped away from Camila at her admission, but she continued before Dinah had the chance to interrupt her again.

“At eighteen, even at nineteen, Lauren was just…so beyond anything mortal to me. Even after all the times I let her rip my heart right of out my chest. She was transcendent, and ethereal, and she was the axis that my entire world turned on. But it’s not like that anymore, Dinah. I don’t think Lauren’s a goddess, I don’t think she’s the sun. I think she’s just a person; she’s not any better than me. I always thought I didn't deserve her, but the truth is, she didn't deserve me.”

“And you think because you don’t feel inferior to her, that means you don’t love her anymore?” Dinah asked, fighting an obvious smirk tugging at the edges of her lips.

“Doesn’t it?”

“No, Mila,” Dinah laughed lightly, shaking her head, “it just means you finally love yourself too.”

“Oh,” Camila’s eyebrows scrunched together as she thought about Dinah’s words. She hadn’t thought of that.

“I think I just, I put her up on a pedestal so tall, it wasn’t really her fault for falling so far when she tried to step off.”

Dinah nodded in understanding.

"Do you still feel it? That  _thing?_ " She asked her, referring to the  _thing_ Camila had always said drew her to Lauren in the first place.

"I didn't think I did. But when I saw her on my birthday, I felt it the second I opened the door. She still gave me butterflies, still took my breath away, still tasted like forever," Camila admitted quietly.

“You saw her on your birthday?” Dinah looked surprised

“She didn’t tell you?”

The younger girl shook her head.

“What happened? Did you guys talk?”

Camila felt bad for divulging that information if Lauren didn’t want anyone to know, but she was also kind of tired of being Lauren’s dirty little secret, so she elaborated anyway.

“Uh, not exactly?” She felt the color rise to her cheeks.

“ _Oh my god,”_  Dinah’s eyes widened in realization.

“We talked a little bit!” Camila defended, ignoring Dinah’s playful smirk.

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” she suggested. Camila rolled her eyes.

"I guess we argued more than anything. She caught me off guard. She just showed up, no warning or anything. I didn't expect to see her, didn't expect her to make my world stop. But then there she was, with this stupid necklace she meant to give me two years ago but wasn't ready. It was a moon with her initial engraved into it. Can you believe that? A fucking moon." Camila shook her head incredulously before continuing.

“She apologized though. She said she was sorry for hurting me and that she’d take it back if she could. And things got really intense and confusing and I ran out.  _Literally._ ”

"You two were made for each other, I swear," Dinah rolled her eyes, "you're as bad as she is."

"I'm serious, Dinah. I don't know what to do. I don't even know what I  _want_ to do."

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know,” Camila said, but the words felt wrong in her mouth. She could feel  _always_ branding itself into the tip of her tongue, but couldn’t bring herself to say it.

“You’ve always been in touch with your feelings, Chanch. I think you know how you feel, even if you need to keep denying it a little while longer. But between you and me, you don’t talk that way about someone you don’t love anymore.”

“I think I’m always going to love her,” Camila finally confessed, “I just don’t think it’s enough anymore.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to walk into a storm – like she was about to dive face first into the catastrophe of a green-eyed hurricane, with hair that twisted like tornadoes and lips that bled red like a wildfire; with a laugh like thunder and a touch like lightning; with eyes like the ocean cracked in two and flooded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god y'all I am so sorry. I've been so incredibly busy. I wrote like...one paragraph a day for this. I promise I'm not forgetting about you guys, life has just gotten so ridiculously out of hand these past couple weeks, I can barely find time to eat and sleep let alone write. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter despite the wait ): it's kind of a filler chapter but I'm honestly really excited about the next one and I'll do everything I can to make sure you guys don't have to wait this long again! 
> 
> (Here's a spoiler for the next update since I made you wait so long for this one: get ready for drunk!camila)
> 
> As always, your comments and kudos are what keeps this work thriving. Thank you all so much for your kind words and just your time overall. Enjoy~

The night was wonderful. Dinah managed to drag Camila to dinner after their coffee shop reunion, and knowing Dinah, she shouldn’t have really been surprised when dinner turned into dessert and dessert turned into a drive around the city with Dinah’s “throwback” playlist booming through the car, yet somehow, she was. It was the kind of surprise that hits you when you forget how it feels to be so young and so free, until suddenly it settles on your lips in a smile you can’t shake while you’re belting out Destiny’s Child and NSYNC lyrics that you really shouldn’t remember all the words to but you do anyway. That’s the kind of surprise that hit her as they barreled through the streets, trying to keep their melting ice cream from spilling over the cone between each verse.

Camila failed, of course, but the stain on her jeans looked almost like a smiley face so she thought it was a good sign anyway. 

Dinah finally dropped her back at her apartment (she’d walked to the coffee shop; it was close) just as the clock slipped on its way to midnight, dancing around her goodbye until Camila had to practically push the younger girl back into her car and force the door shut. She laughed as Dinah rolled down the window and shouted, “can’t get rid of me that easy, Walz. I know where you live now!” She couldn’t wipe the dopey grin from her face even as she trudged up the steps to her apartment.

Three flights later, she was still smiling.

But, like always, something had to come along and shatter the moment as soon as Camila started feeling like herself again.

She froze in the hallway as soon as she rounded the corner to her apartment. It was only a few feet away but her heart crawled up into her throat and she couldn’t swallow it, so she decided to do what she did best: hide. She quietly retreated around the corner towards the stairs, trying to pick up the pieces of her thoughts that seemed to have spilled out the moment she laid eyes on the tussled dark hair leaning against the wall. She snapped the rubber band on her wrist when she felt herself picking at her fingernails. _Breathe, Cabello, it’s just Lauren,_ she told herself, but somehow that just made her stomach flip and her heart beat faster, because Lauren would never be _just Lauren._

She was sure Lauren had come because of what happened on her birthday, when she left Lauren half naked in the dark, her breath still broken, jumping out of the car like she was fleeing the scene of a crime. She was sure Lauren had finally let her anger boil over until she couldn’t take it. Camila knew how it felt to be left like that, but where Camila usually found sadness, Lauren found anger. And Lauren always had a habit of letting her anger pile up until it exploded.

 “Are you seriously _hiding?”_ Camila finally heard a familiar voice ring out, breaking the silence. Lauren’s voice was cold, and Camila thought her breath must’ve pulled the whole world down a few degrees.

“I’m not hiding,” she replied halfheartedly, but didn’t move. It wasn’t that she didn’t _try,_ but her feet just cemented themselves to the ground, refusing to oblige. Her heart was racing faster than it should’ve been; she just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to walk into a storm – like she was about to dive face first into the catastrophe of a green-eyed hurricane, with hair that twisted like tornadoes and lips that bled red like a wildfire; with a laugh like thunder and a touch like lightning; with _eyes_ like the ocean cracked in two and flooded. Camila felt an earthquake rattle through her bones at the sound of Lauren’s voice, felt a volcano erupt in her chest when she saw her, and she couldn’t help but admit that Lauren had sort of been a beautiful disaster.

And then her voice cut through the tension – “I can leave, if you want,” – steady and soft, and Camila’s heart dropped down all three flights of stairs; _this is the calm before the storm,_ she thought. She wanted to move forward, to see Lauren’s face so she’d know which type of Angry Lauren to expect, but she couldn’t will herself to move. Like if she moved at all she’d be stepping out of the liminal space of the moment and crashing right into the storm.

“Yeah, I’ll just…I’ll go,” she heard Lauren mumble after she’d gotten no reply, and Camila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _Where was the storm? Why was the sky so clear?  Why wasn't it raining?_

“Why’d you come here?” Camila asked slowly, poking her head around the corner. She grew even more confused at the expression on Lauren’s face. She thought she’d seen every version of Angry Lauren, but this was new. This version looked more like Nervous Lauren, and Camila’s couldn’t understand why.

“Truthfully? I don’t know,” Lauren shrugged, not meeting Camila’s eyes as she finally stepped out from behind the corner.

“I got a text from-“ she continued, but Camila didn’t let her finish.

“ _Dinah.”_

Lauren bit her lip as she nodded.

“Don’t get too mad at her,” she explained when she noticed the way Camila’s jaw locked, and Camila hated herself for being so transparent in front of Lauren, but it’d always been that way. Camila sometimes felt like she had every thought in her head tattooed on her body in a language only Lauren knew how to read, and after all this time, she really wished she would’ve remembered to wear a sweater just to cover it up, but she knew how it ended; Lauren would just pull the sweater off at the end of the night anyway.

“She didn't really say much. Just texted me 'get your shit together, Lauser' and refused to say anything else. I didn't know what the hell she was talking about, but somehow I ended up here." There was no hint of anger in Lauren’s voice and Camila wasn’t sure why she was so surprised about that, but she just was. She still half expected Lauren to erupt in a rage as soon as she was close enough.

“Dinah’s always been our biggest fan,” Camila laughed, dryly. It didn’t meet her eyes and she knew Lauren noticed.

“I’ve been sitting in front of your door for like an hour trying to think of something to say, but everything sounded stupid. I didn’t even realize you weren’t home; I never got to the knocking part. God, this feels pathetic,” Lauren admitted sheepishly, chuckling in that self-deprecating tone that always broke Camila’s heart.

Only this time, it didn’t.

“I know the feeling,” she mumbled under her breath, loud enough for Lauren to hear but quiet enough that she could pretend she didn’t.

 “I’m sorry for bothering you so late. This was stupid. I’m – yeah, sorry,” she shook her head, moving to step past Camila and to the stairs when the younger girl instinctively grabbed her by her leather jacket. Lauren turned, slowly, looking at Camila with a thousand questions flashing through her eyes.

“Stay,” Camila whispered, her eyes dropping to her own shoes.

“Okay,” Lauren said. _Always,_ Camila heard.

She led Lauren into her apartment.

***

They were sitting at opposite sides of Camila’s kitchen counter, and the younger girl had spent the past few minutes counting the beat of Lauren’s fingers as they tapped across the surface. She would scratch at her wrist every few seconds before taking a deep breath and continuing to drum her fingers along the granite. She was itching for something to smoke, Camila could practically feel her lungs begging, and she was biting the inside of her lip just to keep her jaw pressed shut. Her body was so stiff and still, Camila wondered if time stopped, but there her fingers were, nails just tap tap tapping away, faster and faster until she finally cracked.

“Say something?” She breathed out, and Camila felt the words coming up from somewhere in the depths of her gut before she’d even processed Lauren’s request.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, before Lauren had even finished her last syllable. She took a second to mentally wring her own neck before continuing, because she promised herself she was _done_ apologizing to the green-eyed masterpiece in front of her but it slipped out anyway. She couldn’t tell if the apology escaped out of guilt or habit.

Lauren raised her eyebrows, her eyes searching Camila’s and the younger girl had to slam her eyelids shut to make sure Lauren didn’t find the answer before she said it.

“My birthday, I shouldn’t have left like that. It wasn’t fair to you and I’m sorry,” she explained, but it came out forced.

“Is that why you’ve been so jumpy around me, Camila? You thought I was mad?”

“Aren’t you?”

“ _No,_ of course not. Look, I’m not gonna pretend it didn’t suck because it really, _really_ did, but I know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed and run away when you shouldn’t. It’s okay.” Lauren’s voice was calm, soothing. It was so soft it almost hurt Camila’s ears because she was so used to yelling.

“I don't understand why you're here if you're not mad."

“I just wanted to see you," Lauren smiled reassuringly, but Camila could tell she was a nervous. Her skin was almost translucent under the fluorescent kitchen light, and the blush that crept onto her cheeks had nowhere to hide. 

“Oh." Camila wasn't sure what else to say. She dropped her eyes back down to Lauren's fingers tapping away on the counter, sure that she was tapping out the rhythm to a song she didn't know, something old with lyrics Camila didn't really understand, something that Lauren had probably made her listen to at some point.

Or maybe she was simply tapping and Camila was turning nothing into something all over again, the way she turned a lit cigarette into a fire drill in sixth grade, the way she turned a stolen glace into four years of stolen touches. 

 

"Do you remember our New Year's Resolutions from last year?" Lauren asked, breaking the silence.

Camila thought for a moment, trying to remember; so much had happened since then, and she never accomplished her resolutions anyway. Her and Lauren had a tradition where they would write  _each other's_ , it was something they'd done since their first New Years together, and Lauren being  _Lauren_ always accomplished hers, but Camila being  _Camila_ always got distracted by something else a few months into the year. 

She remembered the first, when she told Lauren her New Year's Resolution was to eat more pizza and Lauren told her that was the worst resolution she'd ever heard, even worse than her ninth grade boyfriend who told her his was to sleep with her mom.  _Boys are so disgusting,_ Camila remembers laughing against her own palm when Lauren told her. Lauren just rolled her eyes and handed her a folded up piece of paper with  _2013_ scrawled across it on one side, and  _I will tell myself one thing I like about me every day this year_ written neatly on the back. Lauren told her that was her new resolution and, well, who was Camila to argue. 

She lasted two and a half weeks. 

The second one, in 2014, came scribbled on a sticky note stuck to a yellow bookmark.  _I will read at least six books this year,_  it said.Camila had rolled her eyes at Lauren, grumbling, "what makes you think I  _don't_ read, huh?" And Lauren had just laughed before sliding a beaten up copy of To Kill A Mockingbird across the counter. 

Camila read it start to finish in four days and didn't touch another book all year. 

2015s resolution was more Lauren's desperate attempt to apologize than a real resolution. It had been almost two weeks since they had a meaningful conversation, because Lauren had swung her mascara brush around Camila's nose yelling about how she tricked her, did 'this' to her, how she wished she never met her. Camila found a note on yellow stationary folded neatly on her pillow,  _This year, I will forgive Lauren for being an ass even though she doesn't deserve it,_ written flawlessly across it. There was a box of chocolate next to it with a sticky note that said  _better than flowers i hope._

Camila only failed that resolution because she'd already forgiven Lauren, she'd forgiven her even as the words hit her ears and the tears spilled down her cheeks. She forgave her last year. 

In 2016, Camila found the note tucked between the strings and the neck of her guitar, but Lauren wasn't in her bunk and the bed was still made. She didn't want to think about where Lauren had snuck off to, so she just shut the curtain and read the note: _This year, I will tell my own story._

"I will tell my own story," Camila finally said, glancing back up at Lauren. She nodded. 

"This isn't really what I had in mind when I wrote it, but I still think about that sometimes."

"We never did 2017."

"I had one," Lauren shrugged, and Camila tilted her head. Lauren averted her eyes when she answered. 

" _This year, I will fix things with Camila._ " 

"How's that going so far?" Camila teased, and Lauren rolled her eyes. 

"Could be worse, I suppose. Did you write one for this year?" 

"No, looks like I'm still working on last year's." 

"Oh, right," Lauren agreed, tapping her fingers again. It was faster this time. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Lauren echoed, and Camila thought that was a pretty good summary of their relationship - an echo. 

Lauren echoed when Camila said, ‘I love you,’ and she said, ‘I love you too.’ She echoed when Camila kissed her, and she kissed her back. She echoed when Camila would stare until she met her eyes.

Sometimes she wondered if Lauren only looked her in the eyes to see her own reflection.

But as much as Lauren echoed, Camila followed. She followed her to parties that she hated; she followed her out of her window at midnight, followed her around the world, followed her into heartbreak.

She’d been chasing Lauren as long as the sun had been chasing the moon.

And it terrified her, because there was a time that Lauren could’ve jumped off a tower and Camila would’ve chased her right down into the concrete.

But that time was over now – Camila was done chasing, done following, done falling in love with an echo.

“You should go,” she stuttered, just as the moonlight trickled in through the window the right way and made Lauren’s eyes light up like crystals, made her skin flash like diamonds, made her look like Aphrodite herself had donned a leather jacket and stumbled into Camila’s kitchen.

She couldn't let herself chase a  _goddess_ all over again. But Lauren just curled the edges of her lips into a smile like she knew was getting back under Camila's skin, a smile that reached all the way up into the galaxies in her eyes, and took a few steps closer. 

"Are you sure?" She all but whispered it. 

"We're too broken," Camila shook her head, closing her eyes and praying that Lauren would be gone when she opened them. She felt something soft press against her forehead, she smelled Lauren's perfume and felt her lips linger against her skin before she backed away again. Camila kept her eyes clamped shut. 

"Never," Lauren breathed against her, "I'll prove that to you one day. Goodnight, Camila." 

Camila still didn't open her eyes. 

"I love you," she heard, just as the door shut. 

It wasn't an echo. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I kissed her at 12:01 and nothing before midnight mattered."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter + the next one were originally just going to be one chapter, but I got really carried away on the second part, so now it's two chapters! Let me know what you guys think I really had a blast writing this chapter and the next one will be up VERY soon. 
> 
> I'm always appreciative of your feedback and support; thank you all!

Camila didn’t like to drink – she really didn’t. Alcohol made her tongue feel funny and her hands get sweaty and she always wound up walking into a hangover no matter how much water she drank during the night. To put it simply, Camila and alcohol did _not_ mix. The first time she ever felt it burn on the tip of her tongue was her sixteenth birthday and even Ally had downed a shot of vodka like it was water, so Camila figured if _Ally_ could do it, she could too.

Turns out, vodka did _not_ taste like water. Not at all. It tasted the way hospitals smell, and that thought alone turned Camila’s stomach. Of course, somewhere around the fifth shot it stopped tasting like anything at all, and when she woke up the next morning tucked into Lauren’s bed with a glass of water by the clock, 12:43pm flickering through the condensation, and a headache beating against both sides of her temples, she decided alcohol was not her friend – a fact she was reminded of on several occasions.

But she was twenty now, and that meant she’d grown and matured into someone who _was_ friends with alcohol – at least, that’s what she was told when a pair of hands shoved a glass of something fruity under her nose anyway, and really, who was she to argue? Camila didn’t exactly have the best track record with the whole ‘decision making’ thing (read: falling in love with the single most emotionally unavailable human on the face of the Earth), so she figured it couldn’t hurt to let someone else take a turn for the night.

And that’s how she found herself in the back of a cab giggling over the fact that the little burp she let out still tasted faintly like tequila.

“No wait, turn here,” she slurred, grabbing the driver’s shoulder. She was too drunk to notice the way he shrugged her off and rolled his eyes. She huffed as he made the right turn at the last second, and erupted into laughter when she slid across the seat.

_Seatbelt. Right. Forgot about those._

“Where to now, miss?” The cab driver asked her after a few moments of driving straight down the deserted road. Camila forgot she was supposed to be giving directions; she’d been distracted by her reflection in the window – _had her face always looked like that?_

“Um, I don’t remember,” she scratched her head, looking around outside the window – _past_ her reflection. None of it looked familiar.

“Keep going straight,” she decided, completely lost, but her drunken logic told her she’d recognize _something_ if they just drove forward long enough.

“Your friends gave me your address, miss. I can just take you home,” the driver tried, looking to Camila with pleading eyes. She didn’t understand why he didn’t want to keep driving her around town. It had only been 20 minutes since she slid into his backseat and she only made him pull over once so she could throw up. Besides, she was hilarious.

She thought she was great company.

“Nope,” she stated, popping the _p_ and leaning forward to emphasize her point, “I can’t go home yet, Joey.”

“It’s Jeffrey.”

“I have people to be, places to see!” She laughed, falling across the seat, and then reminding herself, _seatbelt, Camila. Focus._

“People to be,” she repeated, under her breath and breaking into laughter again when she registered her mistake.

“If you could be any person, Johnny, who would you be?”

“I would be _Jeffrey,”_ the driver grumbled, shaking his head. Camila tilted her head to the side – _who was Jeffrey?_

“I would be Lucy,” Camila stated, nodding vigorously, “then I’d be good enough.”

“You deserve better than whatever boy has you questioning your worth, miss,” Jeffrey spoke up, his tone much softer. Camila, of course, didn’t notice, because she was too busy laughing herself into tears in the back seat at just the thought of being hung up over a _boy_. Like, _ew?_ As if.  

Jeffrey shot her a look of confusion but Camila yelped out, “turn here!” before she could explain what was so funny.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going? Or where we are?”

“We’ll find it eventually. Live a little! The night is young!” She exclaimed, hanging her head out of the newly opened window and letting the wind slap her in the face.

 “It’s after midnight,” he deadpanned, sighing deeply.  

“All the best things happen after midnight, Jiffy” Camila promised him.

“It’s _Jeffrey,”_ he breathed out in exasperation. Camila didn’t even hear him.

“I kissed her at 12:01 and nothing before midnight mattered,” she continued, fumbling with her seatbelt with her tongue poking out from between her teeth. It tingled.

“I told her I loved her at 1 in the morning in while we were both drunk in a stranger’s backyard, and she made me walk home but that’s okay, because two years later she told me she loved me at 1 in the morning too.

“The moon can keep your secrets, that’s what she always said. That’s why we had to wait till midnight to be together, because all the best things happen after midnight,” Camila informed him, her voice serious, like she was letting him in on something top secret.

“Can I tell you something, miss?” He looked at her, and Camila was surprised because his expression of annoyance had morphed into sympathy. She nodded eagerly.

“Better things happen at noon,” he smiled, and Camila thought about it for a second but shook her head. Because noon meant interviews where Lauren ignored her and beach trips where Lauren wouldn’t look at her and that one time where she walked into the tour bus with Lauren kissing Brad fucking Simpson as soon as the clocked ticked to 12:01 _pm_. Midnight was better. Midnight was theirs.

“The moon might keep your secrets, but the sun doesn’t have to,” he said softly, but Camila didn’t really hear him because she caught sight of a gas station – a _familiar_ gas station – and was shouting “turn left!” before his words really hit her.

She’d been to that gas station before. They’d stopped there before going to the beach once, all five girls loaded up in Ally’s car. They met at Lauren’s and pulled into the gas station for the most important things before a road trip: gas, and snacks. Ally was pumping gas and Dinah was (already) passed out in the back seat and Lauren, Camila, and Normani were all inside getting drinks and snacks for everybody. Camila was on drinks duty and didn’t even notice that Lauren had beat her back to the car until she climbed in the backseat next to her. She was palming a handful of skittles before she smiled gently at Camila and passed her all the yellow ones she’d separated out (because it didn’t matter what anyone said; you _could_ taste the colors and yellow absolutely tasted the best). She wanted to scream _I love you Lauren Michelle Jauregui_ at the top of her lungs, so loud her voice would still be resonating through the gas station for anyone who stopped until every last drop of gas dried up, but she just smiled and savored each skittle one by one in a futile attempt to make _something_ from Lauren last.

She was deep in thought about how _delicious_ yellow skittles sounded when the cab driver caught her attention again.

“It’s a dead end here. Which way?”

Camila tilted her head, “fuck if I know.”

The driver raised his eyebrows and Camila burst into yet another fit of laughter.

So alcohol made her giggly – shit happens.

“Did I say that out loud? Oops. Try left. I feel kind of left right know, you know?”

Jeffery shook his head, stifling his chuckle. Camila felt accomplished; she knew he was enjoying her company, he was just a little slow to show it.

“Do you have any skittles?” She asked him, undoing her seatbelt to lean forward, to make sure he heard her. This was a very important question and she couldn’t risk him missing it.

“No, miss, no skittles. Sorry.”

Camila huffed as she slid back into the seat. _Dammit, Camila. Seatbelt!_

She had just gotten the seatbelt to click again when she recognized an upcoming neighborhood.

“It’s there, Jimmy! Right up there! Do you see her?”

“See who?” Jeffrey looked around as he cautiously made his turn towards the neighborhood Camila was frantically pointing at. He didn’t bother correcting her again.

“Lauren,” she smiled, her voice dripping in adoration. He noticed.

“She’s probably asleep,” he said softly, “it’s after midnight you know.”

“She’s awake,” Camila nodded, looking up to the moon. It was full, shining down right over them. The sky looked beautiful and she was so lost in the stars, searching for the constellations Lauren had taught her all those years ago that she didn’t even notice the car come to a stop.

“Which one?”

“Not sure. I’ll walk,” Camila assured him, reaching for the door.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, miss. It’s late.”

“It’s always late,” she sighed, pushing him a wad of crumpled up cash and leaving the car. She pretended to ignore the way the cab followed her down the road until she finally found the right door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it sort of hit Camila so hard in the chest, she choked on the realization; she never walked into the storm – she caused it. Maybe it was some deep seeded pathological attempt to punish herself, maybe it was some twisted way of forcing Lauren to feel guilty, maybe Camila was just as fucked up as Lauren was after all, because Lauren hurt her, god did she hurt her, but nine times out of ten, Camila begged for it.
> 
> Maybe there was a kind of emotional masochism that only drunk Camila was privy to understanding.
> 
> Or maybe Camila was just way too intoxicated for any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be ending within a few chapters (probably like 2 or 3 more?) but I don't really want to stop writing these characters yet - they're a lot of fun. So I was kind of thinking of pulling a Midnight Sun here and rewriting this in Lauren's perspective? Basically her side of things, her memories, her version of their reconciliation, etc.? What do you guys think? That, or writing a prequel of their relationship prior to this story - which I would probably end with Camila's exit from 5H. I'm kind of nervous about writing that though since I'm so new to the fandom I know I'd mess up something important haha. Let me know if you guys would be interested in either of those! 
> 
> And of course, any comments, kudos, or just reading in general is appreciated. Thank you guys so much for your time and I hope you enjoy this chapter because it was one of my favorites to write!

She probably would’ve hesitated to knock if she wasn’t too drunk to even stand up straight, but she was, so she just pounded her fist against the door, losing count until it violently swung open. It almost knocked Camila off her feet.

“What the hell do you – _Camila?_ ” Lauren stepped out of the doorway a little to get a better look. Camila had a lopsided grin on her face at the sound of her name and had to lean against the wall for support. It felt like her eyes were vibrating, she could hardly see straight. And the stench of Jose Cuervo emanating from her skin was strong enough that she could smell it on herself. So she wasn’t sure why Lauren’s eyes lit up like that, like she was looking at something beautiful when Camila was _sure_ she looked like a drunken train wreck, but she was far too gone to question it.

“What are you doing here?” Lauren asked after a beat.

“It’s her, Johnny!” Camila yelled, turning to the parked cab behind her. He flashed his brights twice before taking off down the road.

“Who was that? What’s going on?” Lauren ran her hands through her hair, grabbing onto Camila with both arms in search of an explanation. Camila didn’t mean to let another little burp escape from her lips, but she did. And she didn’t mean to giggle at the taste, blowing her bitter breath right onto Lauren’s nose, but she did. Lauren didn’t move though. Just crinkled her nose a little and repeated her question.

“I’m drunk,” Camila finally answered, like it wasn’t painfully obvious-.

“Clearly,” Lauren rolled her eyes playfully, pulling Camila inside. She felt a little surge of pride at being right; all the lights were on, the TV was on, and something was beeping in the microwave; Lauren had definitely been awake.

“What are you doing here?” Lauren repeated, slowly, carefully putting Camila into a chair and pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Lauren dropped the water. It bounced along the tile but neither of the girls payed attention.

Camila stood up and Lauren didn’t move, didn’t even twitch.

“Kiss me.” Camila repeated, more assertively, taking a few steps towards her. She could’ve sworn Lauren was holding her breath; her chest wasn’t even moving.

“Kiss. Me.” she demanded, her voice low as she mumbled once more directly onto Lauren’s lips, and before Camila knew what was happening, she felt her back slam against the refrigerator door and Lauren’s tongue dive into her mouth. She was too drunk to really do much but stand there, just moving her lips took all of her energy. She tried to grab onto Lauren’s hips to pull her closer, even though the older girl was already flush against her, but her hands were kind of numb and she couldn’t really get the buzzing in her head to stop long enough to _think._ So she just let Lauren’s lips attack her and hoped with everything she had that it was enough.

It wasn’t. It hadn’t even been a minute before Lauren pushed away from her and took a step back like she was afraid she’d get burned. She almost looked guilty.

 “Camz,” Lauren shook her head, her cheeks flushed, “we can’t.”

“You always say that,” Camila pointed out, taking another step forward. She felt dizzy and she couldn’t tell if it was because of all the alcohol or because she could still taste Lauren’s tongue in her mouth.

“No, you’re drunk.”

“I don’t care,” Camila pouted.

“I do.”

“You said you wanted to prove it,” Camila muttered. Lauren cocked her head to the side, not understanding.

“Prove what?”

“That we aren’t broken.”

Lauren shook her head, taking Camila’s hands in hers. She pressed her lips softly to the younger girl’s knuckles before speaking.

“We _aren’t_ broken. But this isn’t how I prove it to you, Camz. We were more than _that._ ”

“Maybe,” she mumbled, and Lauren dropped her hands.

“You know it was more than just the physical to me,” Her voice rose slightly and Camila felt her ears turn pink. She found herself suddenly craving another round of drinks.

“Didn’t always feel like it,” she spat out, not really believing her words but not really thinking much about what she said either. She was far too drunk to mean it.

“You’re the one that just showed up for, what, a drunken booty call?”

“It’s the only thing you ever want from me anyway,” Camila retaliated, stumbling forward slightly. Lauren caught her but Camila jerked her hands away as soon as she regained her balance.

“God, Camila, _stop with the bullshit._ You know it wasn’t like that. Why are you being like this right now?”

And, okay, Camila knew, she _knew,_ she was lying. She knew it was a lie as the words were coming out of her mouth. They tasted like venom, felt it spilling from her throat like she was spitting out poison – but there was a part of her, a part that terrified her, that just wanted to sink her teeth in Lauren let it burn.

So maybe Camila didn’t just get giggly when drunk – she got a little mean too. _Noted._

 “Because I’ve always been like this, and you’ve just had your head too far up your own ass to notice.” Camila wasn’t positive if those were the words she said, because it sort of sounded like she was speaking under water, but those were the words she meant to say and she figured Lauren got the point when she watched her face go from snow to fire like Antarctica somehow collided with the sun.

 _Violence, chaos, disaster._ She braced herself for it, because she saw the spark in Lauren’s eye, saw it dance beneath the emerald orbs in her eye sockets and threaten to break through to the surface.

 _Violence._ It was a ghost peeking through her pupils, a shadow of the hole in the wall where Lauren sent her fist through it a foot from Camila’s nose only a year ago, when Camila hadn’t even flinched as Lauren’s wrist buried itself in the drywall. She wasn’t _trying_ to scare Camila – she just needed to fucking hit something, _anything,_ and the wall next to the smaller girl was the first thing that caught her attention aside from Camila herself, because Lauren would’ve slammed her fist into her own gut before she put a scratch on Camila, and the younger girl knew it. She didn’t even blink when the wall cracked, just carefully maneuvered Lauren’s wrist out and spent the night rinsing blood down her bathroom sink – busted knuckles and _violence_ painted in red.

 _Chaos._ It was an ache in her chest, a memory of the time she threw Lauren’s beer bottle at the counter, and Lauren dropped to the ground with her hands over her head even though it shattered on the other side of the room, and Camila felt her heart break into more pieces than the bottle because she never wanted to _hurt_ Lauren – she threw the bottle as far away from her as she could – she just needed to break _something,_ and what better thing to break than the one thing Lauren held onto tighter than her boyfriend, since she couldn’t (legally) break Brad fucking Simpson. She wished she could’ve though, since he was the reason Lauren flinched at all – he was the reason for the _chaos_ of broken glass and broken tears and broken apologies in her kitchen.

 _Disaster._ It was the scar on Lauren’s forearm where she put her cigarette out on her own skin, her smoky breath creeping into Camila’s eyes and nose and mouth while she whispered, ‘this is how you make me feel – you’re a fucking disaster, Camila’ right before her skin sizzled; it was the time she pushed two fingers down her throat, the same two she had inside the waistband of Lauren’s pants only an hour before, and tickled her own throat until she sent her own _disaster_ into the toilet bowl just to prove a point, because Lauren said she was too skinny and Camila thought she’d prove her right for once. _Disaster_ like Camila and _disaster_ like Lauren and _disaster_ like every day of the last five years.

And Camila just quietly watched it – the _violence, chaos, disaster –_ dancing in a tango behind a curtain of green eyes, and counted each second until they all finally burst through.

 “ _Fuck you, Camila._ ” Lauren finally whispered, and the violence trembled in her hands, the chaos quaked in her voice, the disaster came spilling slowly from the corners of her eyes.

And it sort of hit Camila so hard in the chest, she choked on the realization; she never walked into the storm – she _caused_ it. Maybe it was some deep seeded pathological attempt to punish herself, maybe it was some twisted way of forcing Lauren to feel guilty, maybe Camila was just as fucked up as Lauren was after all, because Lauren hurt her, _god did she hurt her,_ but nine times out of ten, Camila begged for it.

Maybe there was a kind of emotional masochism that only drunk Camila was privy to understanding.

Or maybe Camila was just way too intoxicated for any of it. The feeling bubbling in her stomach pointed that way.

“Lauren-“

“ _No,_ I’m done apologizing for the past, Camila. I hurt you. Yes. I’m not going to spend my entire life saying sorry, and I sure as hell am not going to let you turn me into some…some _villain_. I-“

“ _Lauren.”_

“I made mistakes, but so did you.”

“ _Lauren-“_

 _”_ Maybe you need to get _your_ head out of _your_ ass, because-“

“Lauren!”

The older girl finally looked up, startled.

“I think I need that water now,” Camila mumbled, holding her head between her hands. Lauren scoffed and picked up the bottle from the floor, opening the cap and placing it by her head.

“Okay, continue,” Camila urged after taking a long swig.

“What?”

“You were somewhere around me getting my head out of my ass, I think? I could be wrong though. I am _drunk,_ Lo,” Camila wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. She had to bite back a giggle because _it was not the time,_ but _wow_ did alcohol do something to her sense of humor.

Something had changed in Lauren’s eyes when she looked back up. Her expression had relaxed and she was looking at Camila like it was the first time she’d seen her. She was fighting a smile tugging at the corners of her lips and Camila was sure she missed something. They were fighting, weren’t they? Did she black out in an alcohol induced haze and miss the part where they made up?

“Lo, what-“

“Go on a date with me,” Lauren blurted.

“What?” Camila felt her cheeks burn. She didn’t hear her right; she couldn’t have. She remembered her eighth-grade teacher saying something about drunk goggles – maybe drunk ear muffs were a thing too.

“I mean it. Like, a _real_ first date. I’ll pick you up, we can go to dinner, maybe get dessert, I’ll even kiss you goodnight on your doorstep if I don’t get too nervous.” Lauren was touching her hair incessantly and Camila knew that meant she was anxious, but she was starting to think maybe she’d fallen asleep in the back of Jeffrey’s cab after all.

“Lauren,” Camila laughed, “first date? We’ve been doing this for over four years.”

“And we royally fucked up all four of them. So let’s just start over.” Lauren wasn’t touching her hair anymore. Her cheeks were still a little rosy but mostly she just sounded excited, and Camila still felt like she was missing something. Her mind was playing a trick, or she was dreaming, or she was drunk to the point of hallucination – _was that a thing?_ This couldn’t be _real._

“But we already _had_ a first date. You were my first date _ever,_ Lo. I don’t know if I want to redo it. That’s special to me.”

“Maybe this could be even better. Give me a chance to do it right, Camz.”

“But we can’t have a second _first_ date,” Camila laughed. There was no way her drunk ass was the voice of reason here.

“Says who?” Lauren crossed her arms, but she was smirking playfully. Camila missed this.

“I don’t know, my mom or God or some shit?” Camila tried, but her and Lauren both broke into a fit of laughter. Camila was wasted; Lauren had no excuse.

Lauren scooted a bit closer, batting her eyelashes.

“ _We’re not broken, just bent, and we will learn to love again_ ,” She sang playfully, pleading with her eyes until Camila heard herself speak.

“Okay.”

She’d never been able to say no to those damn green eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was too old, too tired, and too hungover to keep playing Romeo and Juliet with the same people; forbidden love wasn’t beautiful like they said – it just hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kind of filler chapter, sorry. The next one will be good (if I may say so myself) but I felt like I should give you guys at least a little something while you're waiting on me. Sorry it's taking so long but trust me, I'm not going to forget about this story. Thank you for all the comments/kudos and even just reading in general. I'm really excited to give you all the next chapter! Enjoy this lil piece while you wait (:
> 
> Also I just posted a one-shot called The Song Remains the Same on here as well if you're interested. It's short but cute. Check it out if you're bored or something. 
> 
> Appreciate each and every one of you!

Waffles.

That was the first thing Camila noticed – the strong scent of waffles breaking her out of her dream (nightmare?) about a giant ball pit swallowing her like quicksand and into a point of semi consciousness where the only sense she could make of the world was breakfast.

The next thing she noticed was a bright light fighting through her eyelids, slipping through no matter how tight she clamped them shut, and the light was enough to pull her out of her slumber completely. Her tongue felt like sandpaper in her mouth and she felt like her brain was hammering against her skull; her skin was sticky and her stomach felt full – like somebody had poured concrete down her throat and let it settle in her gut – but also, _waffles._

She let out a low groan the same time her stomach growled.

 And that’s when she realized she was not in her own apartment, not in her own bed, and waffles certainly did not cook themselves.

_What the hell happened last night?_

As soon as she took a deep breath into the sheets, the overwhelming smell of _Lauren_ washed away the scent of the waffles, and it all came crashing back into her. Drinking, dancing, Lauren, yelling. She didn’t remember much after Lauren pinning her to the refrigerator and sucking the tequila right off her tongue. Most of the night was fuzzy, right from the second drink, but after knocking in Lauren’s door it was nothing but a blur.

She couldn’t explain why her hair was wet or where her pants went or at what point she’d changed into one of Lauren’s oversized t shirts.

Eventually, the smell of waffles won the battle against her hangover and Camila dragged herself from the blankets and out into the kitchen. She froze in the doorway when she caught sight of Lauren; it amazed her that the older girl could still empty her lungs without even trying, how she could somehow turn Camila’s blood to ice and fire at the same time. All these years later and Camila still felt her nerve endings burn the moment she walked in the room; she felt her from her fingers to her toes and it made her sick because Lauren couldn’t feel her back.

Never could. (Never did.)

She had an earbud in each ear, humming along to a song while she stacked waffle after waffle onto a plate. Her hair was messy – she hadn’t brushed it yet – but it tumbled over her pale shoulders peeking out from her tank top kind of like the way the night sky swims across the pale light of the moon, and Camila felt her chest crack at the analogy when a thousand memories beat against her – she never would’ve thought astronomy could hurt so bad.

Camila didn’t even realize how long she’d been staring until Lauren spoke.

“How long do you plan on just standing there before you come eat?” She said, without turning around or taking out an ear bud. Camila’s cheeks burned – _apparently Lauren could feel her after all._

“I, uh-“ Camila coughed, “sorry’.” She pulled her shirt down in a hopeless attempt to cover her legs, but when your legs are a mile long, a t shirt won’t cut it.

“So, what exactly happened last night?” Camila asked when Lauren slid into the chair across from her, toting a pile of waffles in one hand and a bottle of syrup in the other.

“You don’t remember?”

Camila shook her head and pretended not to notice the way Lauren’s face fell.

“Not much,” she shrugged, falling short on her obvious attempt at nonchalance.

“I remember kissing you,” Camila said, pulling at the edges of her shirt – _Lauren’s_ shirt – and Lauren’s eyes widened at what she thought Camila was implying.

“ _Oh._ No, nothing…like _that_ happened.”

“I know, Laur,” Camila laughed lightly, “I trust you. I just mean, I remember kissing you, and I think we fought about something, and I then remember…swimming?” She ran a lock of damp hair through her fingers.

“More like a shower,” Lauren replied through a mouthful of waffles.

“Oh. Care to fill in the blanks from the rest of the night for me?”

“I don’t know what happened before you got here,” Lauren started, “but after you kissed me, we argued for a while and then you took my dinner and fell asleep on the counter halfway through it.”

“Oh my god,” Camila covered her face.

“So then I made you shower because you managed to dump the spaghetti sauce into your lap, and when I finally finished cleaning that up, I found you passed out in the middle of my bed wearing nothing but a pair of socks.”

“So nothing embarrassing then,” Camila said sarcastically, her cheeks tinged red.

“It was cute,” Lauren replied quietly, not tearing her eyes away from the sea of syrup on her plate.

Camila felt bits and pieces coming back to her as she finished her breakfast, but before she had the chance to ask Lauren about any of them, the doorbell rang and dragged her out of her thoughts. She looked at Lauren with furrowed eyebrows just as Lauren jumped to her feet.

“ _Shit,”_ she grumbled, running a hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry, Camz, I totally forgot –”

“ _Open up!”_ She heard Dinah’s voice whine through the door across the hall. She looked to Lauren with panic in her eyes.

 _I’m sorry,_ Lauren mouthed as she made her way to the door.

“Um, guys, I-“ Camila heard her start when the door swung open, but she was cut off as Dinah breezed past her, past the kitchen without even noticing Camila’s presence, and straight into the bathroom.

“What’s got you so jumpy, Laur?” Ally asked, her voice echoing into the kitchen.

“Got somebody hiding in your bed or something?” Normani teased, and Camila looked frantically to Lauren’s bedroom but she didn’t know if she was supposed to hide or make her presence known so she just sat awkwardly in the chair finishing the last bit of waffles in hopes that Lauren would figure something out.

“Uh, not exactly?” Lauren replied, just as the three girls stepped into the kitchen. She wouldn't meet Camila's eyes.

“Hi,” Camila waved awkwardly, syrup dribbling down her chin. She reached up to wipe it off and watched an odd combination of shock and confusion etch itself across their faces.

“Uh, hi, Mila?” Ally replied, but it came out more like a question than anything else and her eyes were pointed at Lauren the whole time. Camila dropped her gaze to her plate.

Normani didn’t say anything – just shifted closer to Lauren, positioning herself slightly in front of her protectively and kept her eyes trained on Camila. The younger Latina could feel the scrutiny of her glare, she felt like she was being smothered by it.

“So, funny story-“ She started in hopelessly, since it was clear Lauren wasn't going to say anything, but she was interrupted by Dinah’s footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“What’s going – _whoa,”_ she said, moving over to Camila. She squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and turned to glare at Normani. Camila watched the two stare each other down, arguing with their eyes as Ally attempted to alleviate some of the tension.

“So are you joining us today then?” She asked, but it was clear she wasn’t really extending an invitation. Camila still appreciated the attempt; it was better than the awkward mental battle occurring between Normani and Dinah, and it was definitely better than Lauren’s silent stare down with her own kitchen tile.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say Lauren looked like she got caught red handed doing something she shouldn’t – she almost looked ashamed – and Camila was done with it. She didn’t necessarily _need_ Lauren to defend her, but Lauren’s expression matched that of a kid who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and she was too old, too tired, and too hungover to keep playing Romeo and Juliet with the same people; forbidden love wasn’t beautiful like they said – it just hurt.

She was sick of feeling like somebody’s guilty pleasure.

“No, I should get home,” Camila smiled halfheartedly, shrugging Dinah’s hand off her shoulder and rising to her feet, completely forgetting about the whole _no pants_ thing.

“Camz, wait,” Lauren tried, stepping out of Normani’s protective blockade. Dinah tilted her chin up, challenging the other girl until she backed down and kept quiet. Camila would’ve found the whole thing humorous in another situation.

“It’s okay, Lo. Have fun with your friends,” she shrugged past Lauren, heading for the door. She couldn't help but notice how wrong it felt to say  _your_ instead of  _our._

“It was good to see you guys,” she added, smiling sadly at each of the girls.

“Camz,” Lauren tried again, but Camila kept walking.

“ _Camila,”_ she heard right behind her, and something spun her around by her arm as soon as she grabbed the door handle.

“ _What,_ Lauren?” She sighed.

“You might want to grab your pants.”

Camila felt color rise to her cheeks; she’d forgotten about that. 

“Shit,” she groaned, following Lauren back through the kitchen. She noticed Normani and Dinah bickering about something, but they both stopped whispering as soon as the other two girls brushed past them. Dinah shot a pointed look towards Normani and that was the end of that. 

“At least let me drive you home,” Lauren offered, once they were back in her room.

“I can call a cab.”

“Or I can drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Camila sighed, fumbling with the button on her jeans.

“But I want to,” Lauren pouted. She batted her eyelashes and Camila had to look away before her eyes had time to work their magic.

“You have plans today, Lo. Go spend time with the girls.”

“But I want to spend time with you.” She took Camila’s hands and pulled her closer. “I miss you.”

“I haven’t even left yet.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Lauren kissed her forehead, and Camila didn’t understand how she could act like that when they were alone but couldn’t even speak when they were out in the kitchen. The other girls had known about them for years, and Lauren still hadn’t even opened her mouth out there. She didn’t understand why Lauren was always trying to hide her, why she was always so guilty when she was found.

And she was _always_ found.

“They just caught me off guard, okay?” Lauren whispered, seemingly reading Camila’s mind. It shouldn’t have surprised her; Lauren always had a way of knowing what she was thinking.

“It’s fine, Lauren. Really. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Camila sighed.

“If you’re going to keep looking at me like I kicked your puppy then yes I do.”

“I just don’t understand why you always look so guilty when you’re caught with me. It makes me feel like we’re doing something wrong, like me just being here is wrong.”

“Camz,” Lauren began, shaking her head, “nothing about _this_ is wrong, nothing about _you_ is wrong.” Her voice was low, quiet, soft. She was so close, Camila could feel her breath tickling her nose; it smelled like maple syrup and coffee.  

“You’re perfect, and when I’m with you, you make me feel perfect too. Nothing about that could ever be wrong,” she continued, tracing the contours of Camila’s face with her thumbs.

“I’m not guilty. I want you here. I’ll always want you here. I’m not ashamed of that, and I’m sorry you didn’t know that until now.”

“I need to go home,” Camila reiterated. Lauren’s face fell, and the younger girl cupped her cheeks to bring Lauren’s eyes back to her own.

“I need a nap before you pick me up tonight,” she smirked. Lauren quirked her eyebrows.

"What?"

“You didn’t already forget about that date, did you?” The younger girl teased, and Lauren’s emerald eyes sparkled as she grinned, a full, toothy smile that went all the way up to her eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe."

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sort of felt like Lauren was inevitable from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitch, I bet you thought you saw the last of me...*insert gif - y'all know the one. 
> 
> Yikes, I don't even know how to apologize for the entire lifetime that has passed since I last updated this...I really lost my momentum for this story and then I started writing other things and had some trouble finding my way back to this. But I promised I wouldn't leave you guys hanging! So that being said, here's the new chapter and let me know what you guys think! If all goes as planned, there will be 2 more chapters after this (and maybe an epilogue if the spirits move me to do so). 
> 
> Comments and kudos keep me alive.
> 
> Thanks for reading everybody.

Chapter 11:

 

7:30.

Lauren said she would pick her up at 7:30.

So when the doorbell rang at 6:48, Camila nearly tore the door from its hinges in a fit of blind rage at whoever interrupted her from getting ready. She only had about half an hour, and so far, she was a complete and utter wreck. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun that was more messy than it was bun, she only had on one sock (the other had disappeared sometime during her nap and she didn’t have the energy to waste time on finding another after she’d woken up a full hour after she meant to), she was only wearing a pair of loose cotton shorts and a baggy t shirt that stretched to her knees, and there were dark circles under her eyes, still crusty with sleep. She needed every second the next 42 minutes had to offer, and whoever it was ringing her doorbell was cutting into her precious time.

“What do you -” Camila started, as she flung the door open, but her mouth stopped moving as soon as she made eye contact with the person in the hallway.

“ _Lauren?”_

“I know I’m a little early,” she other girl said awkwardly, playing with her hair the way she always did when she was nervous. Camila didn’t even notice what she was holding in her other hand.

“A little? Try a lot,” Camila sighed in exasperation, her head dropping in embarrassment. Lauren stood there in front of her, the very picture of raw beauty - her raven hair falling over her shoulders in perfect waves, her emerald eyes peeking through her dark eyelids, her lips painted red like the blood in her veins _._ The dress she wore was black - of course it was black, it was always black - and her heels were just tall enough to make it look like her legs stretched all the way into heaven. To top it off, she had her signature leather jacket draped over her shoulders, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

Lauren was exquisite - _art,_ in human form.

And Camila was wearing one fucking sock.

“Yeah,” Lauren laughed sheepishly, “sorry about that. I didn’t want to be late and I uh, clearly overcompensated.”

_Clearly,_ Camila thought to herself. A few minutes, she’d understand, but _forty two?_ As much as it irritated her, she also sort of found it endearing. She could count on one hand how many times she’d seen Lauren so nervous - but here she was, pacing awkwardly and playing with her jacket sleeves and arriving _forty two_ minutes early all because of a date with a girl she’d already been with for years. Maybe she really meant it when she said things would be different. It sure felt different.  It felt _important_. Even Camila could feel the change in the atmosphere, and they hadn’t even left yet.

“These are for you,” Lauren choked out as Camila moved to allow her into the apartment. It was only then that the younger girl noticed the bouquet of roses - the assortment of reds and pinks and yellows all mixed together around a single white rose in the center.

She knew the colors weren’t a coincidence, and she was absolutely stunned as she subconsciously reached her hand out to take them. The weight of it all almost crushed her as she wrapped her fingers around the stems.

Here Lauren was, offering her love and romance and friendship, with the promise of a new beginning right there in the center, and if it wasn’t for the sudden sharp pain in her thumb, she might’ve suffocated on the very thought of it. But a thorn tore through her flesh and grounded her back into reality and reminded her that even beautiful things could be dangerous.

_Especially_ beautiful things.

Lauren met her eyes, then - soft and sparkling and full of concern, a reflection of the waves of the ocean back home, a home she’d almost forgotten - and it was both the most beautifully dangerous and the most dangerously beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

It was kind of like the roses clutched in her fist, with that little drop of red staining everything beautiful. She thought maybe it was a metaphor for something - that every time Lauren handed her a beautiful promise, she'd be the one to wind up bleeding.

“You okay?” Lauren’s voice was calming, as calming as it ever had been. It brought her back into the moment, standing there in her doorway in _one fucking sock._

“I’m not ready,” Camila muttered, her voice cracking as she spoke. Even as she said it, she wasn’t sure if she meant for the date, or for giving Lauren another chance in the first place. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be _with_ Lauren without existing _for_ her, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to go back to that place where her heart only beat when Lauren was touching her.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lauren teased, but her voice was low and gentle and Camila knew right then that as much as she wasn’t ready for _this_ , she’d _never_ be ready to leave Lauren in the past either.

Some people are worth the heartache.

“It’s not my fault you showed up while I still look like a zombie,” she rolled her eyes, attempting to turn back towards the sea of clothing dumped onto her bedroom floor and find something halfway decent for the night, but she felt a hand wrap around her wrist and spin her around as soon as she turned.

They were still stuck in that damn doorway, that little space rooted right in the middle of comfort and the unknown.

“You’re beautiful, just like this,” Lauren whispered, their faces inches apart. Her eyes were bright, blinding, breaking right through the surface of Camila’s own and the younger girl couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response because the words fell from Lauren’s tongue like she was reading scripture - like even just denying it would be a sacrilege. She said it with such conviction that Camila almost believed her.

“Stop,” she mumbled, tearing her gaze away. But Lauren just tucked a finger under her chin and brought their eyes back together. Her lips were curled into a soft smile and Camila couldn’t help the way she mirrored the expression. Lauren had a hold over her the way the moon did over the tide. She was stupid for ever thinking she could resist something as primal as nature itself.

“I mean it. You’re beautiful, Camila. I’ve seen you puke on yourself, I’ve seen you with tears and snot dripping down your cheeks, with food stuck in your hair. I’ve seen you at your worst, baby girl. And I can say without a doubt, you’re breathtaking. We all have our crosses to bear. Deal with it,” she joked, kissing the tip of Camila’s nose before pulling away. Despite her joking tone at the end, the words resonated.

She’d known Lauren for _five years -_ Lauren had seen her at rock bottom, and every step along the way. Lauren was her best friend before she became anything else. _Why the hell was she so nervous about picking out an outfit?_

“It’s a gift and a curse,” Camila added dramatically, giving into the banter. Her throat felt tight but the words managed to slip out anyway.

“Oh I’m sure. Must be a real struggle,” Lauren laughed.

“You would know.”

“Oh, definitely - life’s hard when you’re dating the most beautiful girl in the world.” As soon as she said it, Camila watched her face pale and her eyes widen. Lauren suddenly looked as though she saw a ghost.

The ghost of their relationship, maybe.

“I’m sorry. That was - I didn’t - I just, uh, wow - yeah. Habit? Sorry,” she stuttered, the air of confidence around her dissipating instantly.

“Lauren -”

“I’m sorry.”

“ _Lauren,”_ Camila raised her voice, grabbing the other girl’s wrist with her free hand and finally pulling her through the doorway, “it’s okay. Calm down, alright?”

“Mhm,” Lauren hummed, but her fingers still tangled through the knots in her hair and Camila had known her long enough to know that meant she was anything but calm.

“We’re dating,” she said bluntly, “I mean, close enough, right? We’re going on a date right now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess,” she breathed out, “I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t need to be, but you’re forgiven anyway.”

“Camz?”

“Yeah?” Camila tried to bite back her smile at the familiar nickname. Nothing felt more like home than that name between Lauren’s lips.

“I didn’t forget,” she grinned, her cheeks tinting red as she pulled a chocolate bar out of the inside of her jacket, “you can’t eat flowers.”

Nobody knew her like Lauren did, and Camila realized in that moment, she never wanted anyone to.

 

***

 

“Where are we going?” Camila asked, bouncing her legs to the beat of the music as Lauren drove down an unfamiliar road.

“You’ll see when we get there,” the other girl huffed, “just like I told you the last six times.”

“Or you could tell me right now.”

“What fun would that be?”

“I think it’d be very fun.”

“I’m not telling you,” Lauren shook her head, reaching forward to adjust the stereo. Camila took the opportunity to grab her hand, bringing it into her lap as she pouted.

“ _Please, Lolo?”_

“No.”

She batted her eyelashes, playing with Lauren’s fingers as she did so. She had to swallow the cheeky grin pulling at her lips when she watched Lauren sigh.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Lauren grumbled, but she gave in and continued anyway.

“First we’re going to go eat at this little hole in the wall place I found a few months ago. I wanna get to know you again.”

“You already know me,” Camila frowned, disheartened that Lauren could forget her so easily. It’d hadn’t even been six months.

“I know how to hold you when you’re having a nightmare, I know what you like to eat when you’re on your period and how many marshmallows you like in your hot cocoa; I know at which parts of every Disney movie you’re going to cry; I know that you can never remember the real names of the constellations, and I know what you’ve nicknamed every one of them because you love to look at the stars anyway. I know your deepest fears and your greatest regrets, and I know that you don’t want an open casket funeral when you die. I do know you, Camila,” Lauren assured her, tearing her eyes from the road to meet the confused gaze of the girl beside her.  She squeezed Camila’s hand before continuing.

“But I don’t know what you’ve been doing these last six months, or how you’ve changed - and don’t say you haven’t. You’re always changing. I love that about you, but I hate how much it means I’ve missed out on. I want to know how you feel now, I want to know about your music, your album, how you’re sister’s doing in school, your favorite song and book and movie because I know it changes every month. I’ll never stop wanting to know you.”

Camila wasn’t quite sure how she managed to speak after that. The sound of her own voice startled her even as she said it.

“I wanna get to know you again, too, Lo.”

“Good,” Lauren smiled as she pulled into the nearly empty parking lot, “because I have a surprise for you.”

“And _don’t_ ask what is is,” she continued, as soon as Camila opened her mouth to speak, “you know I’ll tell you if you ask and I really want it to be surprise, okay?”

“Fine,” Camila relented, undoing her seatbelt when Lauren pulled the car into a spot in front of what looked like a small cafe. It didn’t look like the place was open; the lights were off, and there were only 2 other cars parked in front of it. Even the LED ‘open’ sign in the window was turned off.

“Are they closed?” Camila asked, but Lauren didn’t answer her - she just smiled as she turned the car off and opened the door.

“Lo? I don’t think they’re open,” she tried again, scrambling out after her date.

“I guess we’ll see,” Lauren shrugged, with a glint in her eye that Camila knew all too well. She was up to something.

She pushed the door open, and Camila was surprised that it wasn’t locked as she followed in behind her. It was dark, but there was a faint glow from the candles on the table and it was enough to at least see where she was going.

“Wait here,” Lauren told her, pulling out the chair at one of the tables.

“Lauren, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see in just a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Camila sighed. As curious as she was, she trusted Lauren and so she was mostly just excited for where this was all going.  

“Be right back,” the older girl smiled, placing a quick kiss to Camila’s temple before disappearing out of the candlelight.

Camila watched her go until her silhouette flickered out of sight. And sitting there alone in the darkness, she felt fifteen years old and hopelessly in love all over again. Only this time around, it didn’t feel so hopeless after all.

Maybe they were right - maybe it was okay to let go, maybe love really did come back to you if it was meant to be.

And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they were meant to be, there never was; the only doubt she ever had was if that was enough reason to keep holding on.

She sort of felt like Lauren was inevitable to her right from the start - right from the first time she’d ever seen those damn green eyes, at fifteen years old when her voice finally found something worth singing about. And still, sitting there alone in the dark at twenty years old, Camila realized that even though her whole world changed in the last 5 years, she still looked at Lauren the same way she did the first time she ever saw her. There was no escaping fate.

And she couldn’t deny it anymore, couldn’t fight it, couldn’t argue - Lauren was inevitable from the moment they met. She was always destined to end up right back here with her.

The next thing Camila knew, all the lights turned on and she was facing a small stage set-up with nothing but a piano and a microphone.

A piano and microphone with _Lauren_ seated at it.

“Let’s pretend for a second, okay?” Lauren started, her voice shaky and her hands fixed firmly in her hair.

“Let’s pretend there’s no label, no fans, no pressure or excuses. Let’s pretend it’s just me and you. Let’s pretend we can start over.”

Camila’s jaw fell open when Lauren’s fingers started moving across the piano. _She wasn’t kidding when she promised a surprise._

“ _Some people live for the fortune,”_ she sang, and the song nearly brought tears to Camila’s eyes. Her voice somehow sounded exactly the same and entirely different as it had on that day all those years ago.

_“Some people live just for the fame, some people live for the power, yeah, some people live just to play the game.”_

She struggled with the piano a little, Camila could tell. She was playing it the same way Camila did when she was first learning the guitar - simple chord progressions, slightly out of time, hesitant fingers. But Camila really couldn’t have cared if Lauren was playing a xylophone at that point; she still would’ve thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.

_“Some people think that the physical things define what's within. And I've been there before but that life's a bore, so full of the superficial…”_

She stumbled a little before the chorus, her words sputtering as she tried to keep up on the piano, and Camila honestly wouldn’t have ever even noticed she’d messed up if she hadn’t let her voice trail away until her fingers remembered what to do again. She regained her composure though, and Camila stopped bothering to even try to contain the ball in her throat as the chorus ripped through the air.

“ _Some people want it all, but I don't want nothing at all if it ain't you, baby. If I ain't got you, baby. Some people want diamond rings, some just want everything, but everything means nothing if I ain't got you, yeah,”_ Lauren belted out, her eyes closed tightly; They both _felt_ the words.

By the time she made it through the next verse, Camila had tears down her cheeks and she could tell Lauren was biting back tears of her own. She finished the song with only a few subtle mistakes on the piano, her flawless voice making up for the errors, and Camila couldn’t make herself do anything besides smile like an idiot with mascara smudged around her eyes.

“Lauren?” She managed to choke out. The other girl looked towards her with raised eyebrows, urging her to continue.

“I like your shirt.”

Lauren grinned.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

 

**


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, after another century. I'm really sorry about the huge wait on this, I've just been having a really hard time lately. I actually failed 3 of my 4 classes this semester (I've never even gotten a B- in college before) just because I didn't go to class for like 2 months straight. Just getting out of bed is getting harder every day, so writing hasn't been my priority lately. I'm sorry for making you all wait for so long but I just haven't had the energy to put effort into this lately. 
> 
> I think the next chapter will probably be the last, and then I might do an epilogue. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story. I really appreciate each and every one of you that has taken the time to read it. As always, comments/kudos brighten my day so thank you for all of your feedback. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

“How did you even pull this off?” Camila breathed out in awe, just as Lauren stepped down from behind the piano. The older girl walked back to the table, her fingers finding their way into the knots in her hair. Even in the pale lighting, Camila could see the way her eyes sparkled with some odd combination of pride and insecurity - something only Lauren could ever pull off.

“I just -” Lauren began, but the inevitable flood of questions Camila had obviously been holding back finally broke through the dam behind her teeth, and Lauren never had the chance to finish.

“And since when do you play the piano? How long have you been practicing that? How long have you - oh my god, Lauren, I thought this was spontaneous? How long have you been planning this? How did you even… who owns this place? How come it’s so empty? How did you do this?”

Camila let the words tumble out of her, eyes darting around the quaint cafe instead of watching the girl in front of her. She didn’t notice the way Lauren was looking at her like everything she’d ever loved was right there across the table.

Lauren ignored her questions for the time being though, averting her attention to a man walking towards the table in a suit too expensive for such a quaint cafe instead. He held a tray of of food in one hand and a bottle of wine that Camila knew both Lauren and the restaurant shouldn’t have been able to afford in the other.

“Ladies,” he nodded politely, as he placed the tray on the table and began to pour a generous amount of wine into each of the glasses.

Camila hated the way her heart sped up a little, knowing she was underage - she was a pop star, for Christ’s sake, and she was offered drinks more often than most middle aged adults, but somehow, she still got nervous about breaking the rules.

Lauren was the only rule she ever liked breaking. It was ironic really, that Camila was the only rule Lauren never wanted to break.

“Thank you,” Lauren smiled. The man just nodded again and disappeared back behind into the kitchen without another word.

“So,” Camila urged, desperate for Lauren to answer her barrage of questions.

“Try the wine," she deflected.

“Lauren,” Camila whined, “ _how_ did you manage this?”

“I can’t just give away all my secrets on the first date, now can I?” Lauren teased, “Gotta keep a little mystery to me.”

“There’s such thing as too much mystery, you know.”

She sighed, giving in, “I started learning the piano about two months ago, when I started practicing that song. And I started planning _something_ out in my head around your birthday, but I didn’t come up with this until this morning. The owner is a friend of my mom’s, so she let me buy it out for the night even though it was last-minute.”

“Wait,” Camila paused, her mouth full of spaghetti, noodles hanging from her lips and all, “a friend of your mom’s? Like, _your_ mom, as in _your mother_?”

“Um,” Lauren furrowed her eyebrows, “yeah?”

She swallowed.

“ _Your mom_ helped you with all of this? _Willingly?”_

“Yeah?”

“So then, you didn’t tell her it was for me, right?”

“Of course I did,” Lauren laughed.

“And she still helped?”

“My mom doesn’t hate you, Camz.”

“Does _she_ know that?”

“Look, she had a hard time with us at first. I can’t pretend she didn’t. But things are a lot different now, okay? You aren’t the only one who’s changed in the last few months.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” Camila admitted fondly, “you look good behind a piano.”

“I had a special someone show me a few things.”

“For the sake of this date, I’m gonna assume you’re talking about Dinah.”

“The one and only,” Lauren grinned.

And the way she smiled, the way her cheeks pulled her lips apart with her tongue pinched between her teeth, the way it fed into her eyes, tugged on her eyebrows, the way she looked so mercilessly happy and carefree - Camila wasn’t sure why she ever doubted right where she belonged at all.

She finally felt like she was home again.

“So, I believe this is the part where you tell me about yourself,” Lauren prompted.

“What do you want to know?”

“Are you still in love with me?” She asked abruptly

And that - well that kind of caught Camila off guard. She’d forgotten how blunt Lauren could be sometimes. She still felt herself answering without a second thought, though.

“More than ever.”

“I just want to make sure this isn’t a desperate attempt to hold onto what’s comfortable,” Lauren mumbled.

“Lauren,” Camila scoffed, “we were a lot of things, but I don’t think we were ever just...comfortable.”

“It’s just, I know people tend to hold onto their first love. Even when they shouldn’t.”

“There was a time where I would’ve agreed with you, Lo. You weren’t healthy for me. But I wasn’t good for you either. You needed a friend, and I couldn’t be that for you because I needed more, and you couldn’t be that for me either. The timing was all wrong. But I learned how to love myself without you, and you learned how accept yourself on your own terms. You’re not just something familiar to me, you aren’t a security blanket. You’re the love of my life.”

She smiled again, almost bashfully, biting the edge of her lip like she was trying to chase it away but couldn’t. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes dropped to the plate in front of her, but her voice didn’t falter.

“For the record, I love you too.”

“Good,” Camila grinned, “otherwise that would’ve been really awkward.”

“Finish your spaghetti, you dork.”

***

Maybe if Camila didn’t know Lauren so well, she would’ve bought the annoyed expression dancing over her face every time she asked where they were going. But she knew her well enough to notice to the way the older girl had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from smirking each time Camila tried to tease the answer out of her.

“It’s a _surprise,_ Camz,” Lauren huffed, for about the third time since they’d left the restaurant, “do you even know what that word means?”

“I hate surprises,” she whined, tracing patterns along the back of Lauren’s hand.

“You love surprises.”

“That chapter of my life is in the past. I’ve matured.”

“ _Matured_ ? Really? That’s the word you wanna use while you’re literally _whining_ at me?”

“Hasn’t there been enough surprises for one night?” Camila grumbled, shooting Lauren her best puppy dog eyes.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Lauren finally sighed, “we’ve been there before.”

“That is literally the worst hint in the entire history of hints ever.”

“Well it’s all you’re getting,” she shrugged.

“Can I at least be DJ then?”

Instead of answering, Lauren just grabbed her cell phone from her lap and passed it to Camila. The younger girl smiled to herself when she realized Lauren had never deleted her thumb print, and carefully scrolled through her Spotify page until she found something that caught her eye.

“Lauren Jauregui,” she gasped dramatically as soon as the music started, “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such a fan.”

“Shut up,” Lauren laughed, “this song is good for my ego, okay? I didn’t realize I was so _addictive._ ”

“Who ever said it was about you?” Camila retorted, just as her own voice filled the car.

_Something must have gone wrong in my brain_

_Got your chemicals all in my veins_

_Feeling all the highs, feeling all the pain_

“Oh, no? Who is it about then?” Lauren challenged with a smirk.

“Dinah,” Camila deadpanned, without skipping a beat. Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I always knew there was something going on between the two of you,” she replied sarcastically.

_Let go of the way I used to fall in line_

_Now I’m seeing red not thinking straight_

_Blurring all the lines, you intoxicate me_

“Sorry babe,” Camila laughed, “Dinah’s just irresistible.”

“Caminah is cancelled; Laurinah, on the other hand, is sailing strong.”

“Laur, stop talking like Stan Twitter.”

_Just like nicotine, heroin, morphine_

_Suddenly I’m a fiend_

_And you’re all I need_

_Yeah you’re all i need_

Lauren rolled her eyes again, but it only took one pleading glance from Camila before they both began belting out the lyrics at  each other.

_It’s you babe_

_And i’m a sucker for the way that you move babe_

_I could try to run but it would be useless_

_You’re to blame_

_Just one hit and you will know I’ll never be the same_

***

Camila knew where they were going as soon as Lauren took a turn off the freeway and cut through the “Do Not Enter” signs blocking a construction zone. She hadn’t been there in years, not since she was at least seventeen.

They used to sneak off up that hill - it wasn’t a construction zone back then - and watch the stars together. It was the only place in the city where you could see the whole sky without all the buildings getting in the way. Lauren used to take her up there when things were more simple between them. She’d lay on her back and watch the moon, make up stories too big and too vast to say out loud, stories only the moon could understand. She’d watch the stars, drowned out in the LA sky, and count the constellations she could never remember the names of. She’d watch the sky for hours, and Lauren would just watch her.

It’s the place Lauren first admitted she was scared, the place Lauren told her she loved her without any words. It was a place they didn’t have to hide, where the whole world wasn’t watching them.

A place where it was only two girls in love - and nothing else mattered.

“Lauren,” Camila whispered in awe, threading their fingers together as the car pulled to a stop.

“Brings back some good memories, I hope?”

“You never cease to amaze me, Lauren Michelle.”

Camila followed Lauren out of the car, stopping at Lauren took her by the wrists and sat her down on the hood. She watched, head cocked and eyebrows raised, as Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?”

“Just...give me a second,” Lauren breathed out, her voice shaking. Camila got goosebumps just at the sight; she’d never seen Lauren so nervous.

“You know, this would be a lot more poetic if there was a full moon tonight,” she started, causing Camila to glance up into the sky. It was clear, there weren’t any clouds, and the stars were brighter than usual. Or maybe they just felt brighter - everything felt brighter lately. The sky was blue, dark but rich, not gray or black but _blue,_ like the middle of the ocean. Deep.

And Lauren was right, the moon wasn’t full, not even close. Only a sliver of the opalescent light was cracking through the sky. The rest was dark.

“I like new moons better anyway,” Camila admitted softly. Lauren smiled in response, running one hand through her hair and clutching something in her jacket pocket with the other.

“I always thought I was fearless,” Lauren continued, looking everywhere but at Camila, “but you redefined fear for me. I was afraid to have you and afraid to lose you and it terrified me because every time you touched me it felt like you were taking me apart and holding me together at the same time. It was hard to accept that you’re my weakness as well as my strength.

I know I took you for granted, and I know I said and did things that I’ll never be able to take back. But I need you to understand that was a reflection of how I felt about myself, not how I felt about you. Every time you told me you loved me, it hurt, because I didn’t deserve it and I knew that. I loved you so much that it actually hurt to have you love me back, because I knew I was bad for you. I didn’t want you to love me. I wanted you to love someone who deserved it.

But you never stopped. I messed up, and messed up, and messed up, but you still held me when I cried before your tears had even finished drying. That’s not beautiful, being trapped with me like that. That’s not what a relationship is supposed to look like. But that’s what I want now - a relationship, I mean. I real one. One where I’m chasing you just as much as you’re chasing me. Where I’m wiping your tears instead of causing them. I want to hold your hand in the grocery store and have dinner with your parents and I want to kiss you on the beach with the sun on our skin. I don’t want a love behind closet doors where I’m making you cry just to kiss the tears away.

You still terrify me. Every instinct in my body is screaming at me to run right now. But I don’t want to be safe anymore, I don’t want to run away from you, I don’t want to hide my heart.

I just want you, Camila.”

Camila could hardly see what Lauren was doing through the tears welling up in her eyes, but the blurry image of the older girl pulling a small box out of her jacket was enough to pull her out of her state of momentary shock from Lauren’s impromptu speech.  

“Lauren, oh my - please tell me, you aren’t really - oh my god, oh _my... dios mio - no lo puerdo creerlo,_ _esto no está sucediendo,_ I can’t - oh my god, _Lauren,”_ Camila rambled out in one breath, her eyes glued to the box in Lauren’s hand. She was pretty sure she was about to pass out.

“You done yet?” Lauren asked casually. Camila just gaped at her.

“It’s a promise ring, Camz. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“Oh thank god,” Camila breathed out, wiping the tears spilling down her cheeks but not bothering to wipe the smile from her face.

“My abuela gave me this ring before she died. I had to get it resized because you literally have the hands of a child, but I want you to have it. If you’ll accept it.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a stereotype, Lo. First date and you’re already trying to put a ring on it,” Camila joked, but Lauren’s face fell.

“I knew it was too early. I’m sorry, Camz, I just -”

She was cut off by Camila’s body slamming into her, arms snaked around her neck with her legs wrapped tightly around her waist. Lauren stumbled back, caught off guard by the sudden koala hug, but she just laughed as she looped her arms around Camila’s back and pulled her tighter.

“Not too early, Laur,” the brunette spoke into her ear, “in fact, it’s about five years late.”


End file.
